The Vampire Integra
by Murasaki Fujiwara
Summary: There are many myths about Vampires, few of which I care about. I am the Vampire Integra, the Ministry's liaison between the Living and the Undead. Crudely put, I am a Vampire that hunts other Vampires. !HP universe, O/c X O/c, shojo-ai!
1. Prologue

There are countless misconceptions about vampires that I have encountered over the years. Some are thoroughly understandable, but some are just ridiculous.

I care little about the beginnings of things, thought they are not without merit. Many of the myths that I may find so ridiculous perhaps stem from our nefarious beginnings.

Some argue the roots of vampires originate in Egypt, others come from dubious ramblings about mad impalers from Walachia, demonic baroness' that bathe in the blood of virgins, perhaps something darker from before Rome invaded the bitter north.

The main point of this, however, is that vampires exist.

Vampires are possibly the strangest of all magical beings. To boil it down to the most bare-bones description, we are animated corpses: zombies.

Technically, we are dead, we cannot age, our hair cannot grow, nor can our fingernails, we cannot procreate and so the basic rules of a walking corps go on. We can, however, regenerate if something is lost or if we obtain injuries that would be fatal to a living being. The process of regeneration requires us to have the ability to transform into mist, then re-compose ourselves back into a fully healed form. Even for the oldest, most experienced vampires this takes a great deal of energy.

We, of course, possess the power to Turn people by exchanging blood. Turning someone is not difficult, but a full Turning takes about a decade and a half to complete, and the consequences for choosing the wrong person are dire. Not just anyone can be a vampire, and if an unfit victim is chosen, not only are they turned into a ghoul, but the vampire who turned them is left in a weakened state until they can manage another Death. In this situation, I was lucky to have chosen a victim of strong spirit and mind to Turn, thought I credit my luck more to impulse than to any kind of cleverness.

I feel the necessity, before I go on, to talk a little bit about myself and my beginnings. As a general rule, it is probably for the best that I provide a little more context for my tale and a reason for my actions.

I am still a very young vampire and I have not yet met many of my kind, save for a select few, the majority of whom I met shortly after I began working for the Ministry of Magic back in 1952, my 'Master' excluded, of course. Many Vampires were wiped out by the infamous Van Hellsing before the turn of the 20th century.

I was a sixth-year student at Hogwarts when I was Turned. The year was 1943, the Nazi's were bombing London; the war was on, and Hogwarts was hell for me.

I was not a particularly pretty girl, often considered gaunt due to the unfortunate genetics of the Black family, nor was I the brightest, or of any specific talent. I was bland, I was average, perhaps a little below. I was, of course, in Slytherin house, hating every minute of it and resenting the prefect, an insufferable muggle-born boy named Tom Riddle. I never liked those charming rakes, especially not the power-hungry ones like him.

I never spoke to anyone, avoiding trouble and keeping to myself. It was the easiest way for me to simply _survive_. Even though the mysterious attacks that occurred throughout that year, I still walked in silence and loneliness through those near empty halls. Despite my façade, I was breaking on the inside. I used to cry myself to sleep almost nightly, my heart aching for some kind of human companionship.

I had one professor that seemed to sense it, as if hearing my silent pleas of desperation from the back of the Transfiguration classroom. Albus Dumbledore was immeasurably kind to everyone, though he would occasionally take pity on me specifically and invite me in for tea under the guise of discussing my progress. He quickly became the only person I felt I could count as a friend, though I didn't fully trust him yet, in spite of his kindness.

My family is not the trusting sort, but I digress.

Tom Riddle is the one I must blame, or thank, for my Turning.

You see, he and Professor Dumbledore never quite saw eye to eye, and Riddle was not pleased with my newfound companionship. At first, he tried to scream 'scandal', but it rolled off of Dumbledore's back, miraculously. Riddle then dedicated himself to making life hell for me as much as he could, when he wasn't pouring over his little black diary.

Admittedly, I was an easy egg to crack. I tried, and failed, to kill myself, which only furthered my melancholic state, and made Professor Dumbledore ever more watchful over me.

One night in early December, I was 'caught cheating', and as punishment, I was sent into the Forbidden Forest, the purpose of this unusual and sadistic form of punishment vastly unknown to me.

Nonetheless, I found myself hopelessly trapped by my own mind more so than any of the 'dark creatures' that dwelt in the forest. I was a girl of High-London, the forgotten daughter of my father's travesty of a second marriage to an Oriental tempest, and I knew almost nothing of the world of a wintry night in the forest. I suppose Riddle planned this in all his cruel cunningness.

A city girl I may have been, but I knew what hypothermia felt like. I wasn't going to last another hour if someone didn't find me, and at this rate, I would never be found. All around me I could hear the sound of wolves closing in, the crunch of their padded feet on the frozen duff. The trees were so close together overhead that scarce blue moonlight leaked through. I was tired, I had lost my wand some time ago, along with my scarf. Terrified as I was, I had no choice but to embrace the fact that I was going to die here.

I found a clearing in the moonlight and sat down on a twisting tree-root, facing death with stubborn pride, and patiently waited for sleep to claim me.

I must have drifted off, but I awoke soon after to the smell of blood and the sight of a raven-haired man clad in velvet and black grappling with a werewolf. Looking at the man, I knew what he was instantly. He was beautiful in his own right, with strong, handsome features and gentle dark eyes despite their current glint of rage at the werewolf. There was blood staining the white snow of the clearing, and I was trembling with fear, though too cold to move fast enough.

I don't remember the details, save for the feeling of fear and crawling on my hands and knees in the snow. I don't know when, but there had been a wolf on top of me, bearing down on me as it's jaws sank into my shoulder. I was going to be eaten alive.

The weight was lifted off of me with great force, care being taken not to demolish my shoulder. A warm, wet rain of crimson surrounded me and I heard the man hiss. Of course, I was prey. They had been fighting over food.

Suddenly, the wolf's weight was replaced instead with the man pressing his body firmly against my back, his steel armor pressing hard against my thin Hogwarts uniform. I cried out in surprise more than anything, but I was quickly silenced when he turned my head with those icy fingers, exposing my throat in the crystalline moonlight. His face held an expression if the deepest tenderness, caring. Fear gripped me, making my eyes well with tears. What was he going to do to me?

"Try to relax, love, it will not hurt anymore…" He whispered in a heavily accented voice, the bristles of his well-trimmed beard prickling my neck as he spoke. His raven hair fell around us, obscuring my vision. His lips seemed to brush against the sensitive skin of my neck in a gentle kiss before I felt his teeth sink into my flesh, tearing at my jugular vein. I wanted to scream from the pain, my body twitching as I felt him draining the blood out of me. My heart was slowing and I was shaking uncontrollably from pain and fear, death closing in on me as the werewolves had minutes before. Suddenly, he drew back, his pale skin dripping bloody black rubies in the moonlight as he loosed the gleaming gorget from around his neck, letting go of me in the process.

"Now, my love." He whispered, tilting his head back to expose his own fair neck. "Drink your fill or die here."

If it weren't for the pain and fear that only added to my dizziness form the heavy blood loss, I would have laughed at him. I was being given a choice to live or die? Me, who saw no future, no value in her own life? I fought to voice this cruel comedy, but he'd severed my vocal cords in the process of tearing a hole in my neck so I was at a loss. The Vampire seemed to guess my thoughts, casting me a charming, smooth smile.

"My dear, you do not want to know what happens if I allow you to just lie here." His lips hadn't moved that time, but I was too dazed to notice.

With neither will nor warning, I struggled to rise from my snowy grave. He opened his arms to me and I tore into his neck with a slight degree of hesitation to my still living mind, the concept of human flesh was slightly repulsive. As I drank the tangy, metallic fluid form his veins, I felt a sudden warmth fill me as he placed his hands gently on my back. Slowly, my pain subsided and I licked gingerly at the quickly closing wound on his neck. He seemed pleased by this, pulling me away from himself and smiling kindly, flashing his pronounced canines. I still felt desperately hungry for blood, leaning in and licking at his lips to get the last drops. It was a very familiar gesture, as a lover would do, but for some reason I felt no shame around him, as if he had been a friend and companion through all of my dark years.

My action drew a deep chuckle from his chest and he pulled me away, wrapping me in his black wool cloak.

"My dear Integra." He said gently, rising from the spot in an unnaturally graceful manner and kissing my forehead in an almost paternal gesture. Gently, he lifted me bridal-style in his icy arms. "There will be time for blood later…but now, you have reason to live. I will never abandon you."

An hour later, we emerged on the edge of the dark forest, Hogwarts' gleaming lights cutting through the cerulean night. Professor Dumbledore was coming through us through the trees, his illuminated wand held high and his half-moon spectacles aglow in the dim light.

"Earl Tepes…You found her?" I head Dumbledore's concerned voice cutting clear and strong through the mist. "Integra Black?"

"I did what I could to save her." Earl Tepes said, coming closer and bringing me into the wand-light. I felt weak at this point, and simply peered at my auburn-haired professor from behind my black bangs. "Unfortunately, she did not survive."

Of course this made sense, though at the time I did not fully understand.

"We can't take her back into the castle. It's too big of a risk for other students at this point."

"I'll take her into my care. She's approaching her First Death. You may want to write her family and tell them she's deceased. I will be taking her into my care. I am her Master now."

Hours later, I lay in a dark crypt beneath the cemetery in Hogsmead. It was forbidden by the Ministry of magic for a magical creature to own any possession, but Earl Tepes had made a comfortable, almost lavish, din in the silence of the cemetery.

It was here in Hogsmead I experienced my First Death, strangely comfortable, warm and silent with the Earl sitting solemnly by my side.

.oOo.

Here I am, once again at Hogwarts, alone, and despite the 67 years I have been on this earth, terrified. Professor Dumbledore is headmaster now, and I find most of the faculty to be to my liking. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin, seems to be on to me, but I can easily fool even the most cunning mortal. Even so, vampires and werewolves never have gotten along well, though he was less dull than most and quite kind despite his subtle distrust of me.

I am not here without reason, however. I am not, nor have I ever, been one to do things on a whim since the Earl Turned me. He helped my realized the effect and necessity of my actions, for which I am ever in debt to his memory.

I forced myself to return here to these dank halls to finish my education, granted mercifully by Dumbledore, who remembered me with a fondness I don't feel I deserve. It is no longer enough that The Ministry has a Vampire on their side, for Vampires can easily be felled if one encounters a 'Van Hellsing' of sorts. Professional vampire hunters have long ago been banned under the 'Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans, section 12: treatment of Vampires'.

, but that does not mean that we are not hunted by those who don't break the laws.

I needed to finish my education, to learn to fight off these 'Van Hellsings', should they become more aggressive again. 13 years before, they had unmercifully claimed my 'Master' with their unholy fire. I was not about to resign myself to the same fate. I was the Ministry's 'Secret Weapon' against any uprisings of magical creatures. I was what they feared the most, and I was what they could not control fully. At least here at Hogwarts, I felt considerably less fear of them deciding I was 'no longer useful', and committing me to the fire. I knew of the Ministry's less than honest tactics since shortly after going to work there.

It was easy to place me back into Slytherin house. Most of the girls didn't even notice. I wouldn't have been surprised if they had been too busy catching rats with their teeth.

If anyone did raise a question, I relied on my family name and a flashing pair of angry eyes, to which they quieted down. Perhaps Voldemort had been good for something after all.

It is quite true that my father's name was Sirius Black. I conveniently left out the fact he was born in 1877, and died in 1952, and that my family had a habit of recycling names. My half-brother, Arcturus Black's son, Orion, had a son named Sirius who was currently locked away in Azkaban and conveniently served as a cover for 'my father'. Dumbledore seemed hesitant for me to use this, but eventually complied, insisting that the ruse only be used in emergencies, and even so, in great moderation.

But a week in to my stay at Hogwarts, my schoolmates regarded me with a sort of intrigued and almost reverent fear, something I was beginning to enjoy with much amusement.

.oOo. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ A/N: I'm a little leery about Harry Potter fics involving vampires, after my best friend exposed me to the trainwreck of a fic called 'My Immortal' aka 'The worst Fanfiction Ever'. It made Stephanie Meyers seem like Bram Stoker (no offense, Twilight fans, it's just, I mean come on,it Bram Stoeker!!!!).

I will try not to make a mary-sue of Integra. It's kind of hard to write a fic about Vampires and not have a mary-sue, just due to the nature of Vampires. It's also very hard to write a vampire fic and not at least do a tip of the hat to Lestat de Lioncourt (oh snap! :3 No Anne Rice fics T_T).

I wrote this for a girl I like a lot. I just do. I can't help it. She's so awesome and I loves her

. This is my first legit Harry Potter fic, also my first jshojo-ai/yuri fic. It's kind of a nice break from all the Naruto yaoi and het angst. 


	2. Annabelle LeCroux

You must be wondering about how I set about the castle during the day if I am a Vampire. A Vampire's allergy to sunlight is a myth, albeit an understandable one. Vampires can, if desired, walk about in sunlight, though it is very hard on their eyes.

After thousands of years of hunting through the night, our eyes micro-evolved to suit our needs, so they are very sensitive to light. Standing in a well lit room, everything seems washed out and over bright to me, and if I go outside on a sunny day, the entire world looks as if it is aflame with light. I am thankful that, in these times, sunglasses have become easy to obtain. Even if I do look ridiculous.  
But once again, I find myself divagating from the tale I set out to tell.

It was the second week in September, I believe, in the charms classroom that her story began. Slytherin had Charms with Ravenclaw, and gratefully, no one from Slytherin had the nerve to sit next to me. I enjoyed my solitude. Since Tepes had passed away, I had become even more of a loner than before. My heart was still aching from his death.  
But she, she sat down next to me almost immediately. I still recall most of my Slytherin class snickering behind their hands as her brazenness, which eventually became endearing, though at the time, I found it annoying.

Her name was Annabelle Le Croux

She confessed that she sat beside me because I have a Vampire badge on my book bag, and that she, too, had a 'love for Vampires'. I was annoyed and slightly confused. Vampires were not to be loved.

I hadn't fully looked at her until a few days later, but when I did, I found myself at a loss for words.  
Her hair was a dark shade of blond, bordering on light brown and fell past her shoulders and turned to curls at the end, and her eyes were a pale shade of green that seemed to pierce your very soul. Somehow, her eyelashes were darker than her hair, which made her look all the more striking to me. Her skin was smooth and fair, with blooms of faint pink in her cheeks that made her look full of life. I did not understand, at the time, why I felt so moved by her appearance.

But it was Anna's sharp wit and humor that drew me to her. She had a dry, cutting sense of humor which she would often use to chastise her classmates without them even knowing she had done so. After a week, we would hang back after class and chatter about whatever came to mind. She would walk with me to my next class, for hers had just ended for the day, and we would 'socialize'. It was heavenly to have someone to share my thoughts with.

She spoke in a soft Cockney accent that was only truly prevalent when she was pressed, something that made me smile inwardly. Anna tried so hard to be dignified, but every once in a while she would lose her composure. She was, perhaps, the most striking when she was angry.

After knowing each other for several weeks, Anna reluctantly explained to me that she was born into a family of Muggles, and had two brothers that made life difficult for her. Most Slytherins would have been repulsed by this, but I was intrigued. I was curious about Muggles and always had been. They were the ones I hunted most, and now, for the first time, I felt a small amount of shame for doing so.

Vampires are well known for the ability to charm the living. I myself had never been very good at this, but could use it to urge someone's opinion one way or the other. Most of my relationships with the Living, as sparing as they were, were based off of this ability.

Perhaps this is what made my friendship with Anna so important to me. I had never once relied on this ability with her, and she still was willing to be my friend, even after seeing some of my ugliest behavior. It only occurred once, when cornered by one Harry Potter, in the Library, on the subject of my 'father', Sirius Black.

By the end of this encounter, I had to forcibly drag Anna away from the unfortunate boy by lifting her up and carrying her out, much to the dismay of her and everyone in attendance. Our mutual embarrassment was a small price to pay for the preservation of 'The Boy Who Lived's precious untouched eyes and the attempted murder charges I'm certain Anna would have received had she succeeded.

Our friendship grew quickly, and showed no signs of slowing or breaking. I had heard, and witnessed, the Living and the transient concept of bonds: friends who swore 'forever' would be over once the relationship had ceased being beneficial.

Vampires have a history of promising forever, even if it means their demise. We are faithful and loyal to the end, and perhaps beyond if such a place were to exist. Anna seemed to share this ideal with me.

Even in her Living state, she was a splendid example of a Vampire.

.oOo.

It was a dark day in late October when Anna asked me about my family once again. I fell silent for a long time as we sat beside the lake, the murky waters reflecting the low clouds. Up until now, I had done such a perfect job of deflecting the question, but I could see there was no escape this time. My occupation being what it is, I know when I am cornered.

"It's complicated." I said finally, hoping to deflect her interest once and for all. I know Anna better than this. She's as naturally curious about everything as she is cynical and jaded.

"We have time. It's Saturday." Anna said, closing her Muggle book and looking at me patiently with those intoxicating eyes. I sighed as I watched the Dementors moving in the distance. I knew she couldn't see them with her Living eyes, so I diverted my attention to the sky. "Do you have siblings?"

"Half-siblings, they are much older than I." I said, watching a snowflake drift slowly down. " We have a different mother."

"You're not fully English, right?"

"Hmm? No…I'm not. My mother was from Japan."

"Oooh, I thought so!" Anna said, sitting up a little straighter, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "I love Japan!"

I smiled slightly, careful not to expose my canines. "Really? I wish I knew more about it. In the Wizarding world, we don't have much for international studies."

Anna began to rummage in her bag, handing me a book. "This one is my favorite. You can read it if you like."

I took the muggle book from her. As were all her books, it was pristine, carefully treated with the utmost respect. She was such a bibliophile.

"The Pillowbook of Sei Shonnagan." I read with a smile. "I've never read a muggle book before."

I was glad to have diverted the conversation from my family. My mother had been taken away by the men from St. Mungus' when I was seven. It wasn't particularly painful to me, we had never been close, but it was not something you discuss. Ever.

We sat in blissful silence, watching the clouds crashing into the mountains as snowflakes fell softly around us. I glanced over at her for some reason, and I felt something stir in my chest. A desire to protect her from all the terrible things in my world and hers, and a desire to protect her from myself as well. She was, after all, Living, and I Dead. In any other situation, she would have simply been my prey, but it left me wondering what camaraderie I had been missing out on all this time.

She was beautiful and precious to me, every facet of her.

From that moment I swore, be my powers damned or divine, I will use them to protect her.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ A/N: Sooo much editing, I'm being so careful about the wording in this. I really don't want either one of these girls to be mary-sues. Please stop me if they start to seem too sue-ish.

Reviews are encouraged, any help and gentle criticism is welcome. Yes, this is a shoujo-ai story. For anyone who doesn't know what that is, it's girls falling in love with other girls, it's cute and fluffy and not raunchy and sleazy *twitch*.


	3. Mourning the Count

November passed in monotonous succession and I was at odds with myself over Anna.

On one hand, I knew that my feelings for her were useless. No only as a vampire, but as another girl.

She and I both blatantly checked out boys, giggled over them in the hallways in our own quiet way, even pursued a few of them in our idle time.

I don't know if I seemed distant, I never had a head for that, especially in regards to boys, but they didn't appreciate my flirtations as much as they did Anna's.

But on the other hand, Anna got less amusement from their attention than I did, usually reading a book instead.

I think I pursued boys so much to prove to myself that I didn't really feel this way about Anna, but I found no true joy in the pursuit, mostly because I spent so much time looking for The Earl in each of them.

I didn't expect to find him, but I enjoyed giving in to the self-illusion that I would.

Somehow, Anna was exempt from this search. Perhaps it was due to gender, or perhaps it was because she bore a semblance to him in her fierce spirit, either way I felt no less confused by the end of November as I was at the beginning.

On the 28th, I received a letter from the Ministry, giving me my orders for Winter break.

Anna was with me in the hallway when I read the letter. My faced must have become quite changed, because she asked me what was wrong, but I said nothing.

I just hoped the Ministry was misinformed.

.oOo.

It was the first of December, quickly approaching the anniversary of my Turning, a blanket of pure white snow covering the grounds of Hogwarts like a blanket of down.

There is one thing that people must understand about 12th century Gothic castles, and that is that they are, without exception, drafty and cold in the winter. Yes, even parts of Hogwarts are so.

I, of course, stopped feeling small fluctuations in temperature when I Died, so I wasn't as sensitive to it as Anna, who walked irresolutely beside me in her charmingly stubborn way, despite the cloud of breath that hung before her face like a sliver veil.

"How the hell do you do it?" She asked, rubbing her gloved hands together as I opened the door to the Charms classroom.

"Do what?" I muttered, my mind still dwelling on the letter I had received just days before.

"You're completely unaffected by the cold…" Anna said with a tone of bitter humor, slamming her book bag down on the desk and tightening her blue and bronze striped scarf. I loved it when she wore blue. It made her face seem even more delicate.

"You seem happy." I said, dropping my bag on the floor with the same mercy she had shown hers. For me, this was normal behavior, but for her…her precious books were in there…

Anna heaved a heavy sigh, more silvery breath gathering around her face. She sat down, digging in her bag and producing an envelope. I took it from her, casually pulling out the letter. It was from her parents.

"They're going on holiday to New York." She said bitterly. I frowned, handing her the letter back.

I felt sad for her. I knew that this was an important holiday for Muggles, centered around family. I could see the hurt in her eyes, I could almost feel it. I knew that feeling of rejection.

"I wish I could do something."

"Will you be staying here over Holiday?"

I frowned. "Sorry…wish I was…" I muttered darkly. I couldn't leave her here alone, it wasn't what a friend would do. But I couldn't just let the Sanguarians of Rome run rampant, especially since the situation down there was getting out of hand. It was my job. Taking her with me would have been too dangerous…

Professor Flitwick entered, and we were forced to pause our conversation until the end of class. I could not focus on my lessons that day: my mind moving at the speed of light, ever searching for a solution to Anna's problem.

By the end of class, Anna looked as if she had sank further into despair, and by extension, so was I. Though she walked with a straight back and her normal, slightly haughty expression, there was a hidden look of loss in her beautiful green eyes.

I vowed that If I made it back from Rome alive, I would surprise her.

.oOo.

A few days later, I stole away form Hogwarts, scattering Dementors like shadows form sunlight as I swooped past them, flying through the still December air on my great webbed wings. For a small time, I was a monster, I was a true Vampire. I was free.

I hadn't visited the crypt in Hogsmead since the Earl had been murdered by Death Eaters, and setting foot in that cemetery nearly broke my heart anew. The cemetery had not changed much over the years, the old headstones looking like broken black teeth sticking out of the snow. It was silent, save for the hooting of an owl and the occasional, distant howl from a wolf. The crypt stood silent, the tree that grew beside it having grown considerably since I had last been here.

I entered it, descending the stairs in deferential silence, remembering all the times I had gone down those stairs with the Earl, our lips wet with blood and our veins full from the hunt. Those had been comfortable times, beautiful, charming times…

I entered the large burial chamber, it's once elaborate velvet draping now riddled with mold and dust. In the gloom, I could make out the tarnished silver chalices we had once drank blood from, everywhere I looked a forgotten extravagance. I felt remorse as I sat silently in one of the plush chintz chairs, leaning melancholically on one arm, my eyes falling across the stone lid of what used to be the Earl Tepes' coffin. Of course it was empty, I myself had scattered his ashes at a crossroads to put his soul to rest.

But the untouched nature of the crypt made me want to go open it, expecting to see him inside, his eyes closed in peaceful slumber, his lips turned up at the corners in his ever-gentle manner of smiling.

I would never forgive myself for not making it in time to save him.

I stood up, tears of blood forming in my eyes as I touched his coffin, running my fingers along the cared effigy of his face. I leaned down, kissing the granite lips gently, tears falling freely form my eyes and running down the frozen stone face of Vladislav, Count of Tepes.

I hadn't wept like this before, not even when the Death Eaters had killed him. It was only now, on the 51st anniversary of my turning, that I wept bitterly for him.

.oOo.

I slept for many days afterwards, cutting class. No one in my dormitory noticed, but I didn't mind. The only guilt for this I felt was that Anna didn't know what had become of me.

It was only thoughts of her that forced me to get up, wipe the blood from my eyes, and go to class.

She spoke sharply to me when I appeared in the hallway outside the classroom, but there was relief in her eyes. I wanted to embrace her, but instead a stood awkwardly before her, keeping back more bloody tears.

"Where have you been?" Anna muttered, her voice smiling.

"Funny you should ask that. I got lost in a wardrobe." I said with a laugh, referencing another muggle book she'd lent me. Her soft green eyes flashed with amusement and we both laughed.

* * *

Authors Note: My friend that I'm writing this for/about hasn't seen this yet, I don't think. ;)

And if she's anything like the Anna I wrote, she'll flay me alive XD

Review plox? People are much more mature about this than they are about my other writing.


	4. Sanguini's Warning

oOo.

One of the most annoying myths about Vampires is that we cannot cross running water. Like the 'rule' about religious symbols, it's only as strong as the faith that is attached. If I were, or had ever been, a God-fearing Vampire, I would not have made it very far at all.

I knew I should have reported to the Ministry immediately upon my return to London, but instead, I took the Knight Bus to Highgate cemetery. I will never forget the look on the attendant's face when I asked for the legendary cemetery.

It first went pale behind his gratuitous acne, he then narrowed his eyes. I smiled at him politely before finding a seat. He knew full well what I was by now. Most adults wizards knew what I was at first glance. It was much easier to fool muggles.

As the bus swayed back and fourth, I found this to be a frightening thought. There would come a day when I could no longer fool Anna, and it troubled me. Anna had a love for vampires, it was true, but loving stories and concepts of something is not that same thing as loving the actual thing. Would she still accept me if she knew?

These thoughts plagued me as I got off the bus, bidding the driver and attendant a good evening in the most stereotypic manner I could manage. The Living ate up the novelty 'Dracula' act.  
The gates were shut and locked, but I was able to break the chains without too much trouble, save for a chip in the black lacquer Anna had put on my fingernails earlier that week.

"Well if it isn't the Vampire Integra." I heard a voice call from inside the cemetery. "Where have you been? Hunting Ghouls in Budapest again? Or playing with the kids from Hogwarts?"

I shut the gate behind me and looked calmly through the shadows despite the obvious distain in the male Vampire's voice.

"I just came back for a few hours, Sanguini."

A gaunt man in a set of pinstriped robes came through the shadows, his feet making no sound as he strode brazenly on the path. His black hair was slicked back, and he had an amused expression on his face.

"There are kids are in the cemetery again. We could use your help around here, you know. We rarely had this problem when you were here." Sanguini said as I cut past him, my black cloak trailing in my wake. It was strange to see Sanguini without his Living counterpart, Eldred Worple, but I raised no questions.

"I know. I am sorry for being gone all the time." I replied, darting noiselessly through the graves with him in tow. "It's not for much longer, a year and a half if I'm lucky…"

"And when you finish your education, then what?"

"Then nothing, nothing will change save for being able to legally use magic to defend us. No more explosives, no more guns. It'll be safer for everyone involved." I said quietly, reaching the entrance to Egyptian avenue. In truth, it would mean something much more for vampires: the ministry called us 'beings' in all their foul bigotry. We are dead, but were once alive, and if these foolish mortals truly believe in any sort of respect for the dead, they would not demonize us as mere 'beings'. My graduation from Hogwarts would they mean that the Ministry had to acknowledge a vampire as an equivalent to a wizard.

Or at least, a better wizard than Cornelius Fudge had.

Ahead, I could see the glow of flashlights and the voices of teenagers shouting and whispering, clearly searching for some sign of the Vampires of Highgate.

"Oh, this is ridiculous." I said, watching them. "Why don't you just scare them off."

"Because." Sanguini said carefully, pulling me into the shadows of a large mausoleum. "They wear the mark of the Illuminati."

Had I still drawn breath, the color would have drained form my face: the Illuminati was an organization the infamous Van Hellsing was said to have belonged to. But they were now defunct, correct? Van Hellsing was supposed to be the last one, and my darling Earl Vladislav was said to have eliminated him.

"That's ridiculous." I scoffed, squaring my shoulders. "You are a logical man, the Illuminati-" I stopped. I could see in the deep crimson of his eyes that there was considerable concern. Sanguini was much older and wiser than I, and for him to be concerned then there must have been some base to his concern. And it made sense, though I didn't want it to. Where there were Sanguarians running rampant, there were surely Illuminati to follow.

"We're hiding out in the mausoleum here until they are gone." He said, opening the door and leading me inside.

"I can't stay here…" I said, taking a step back. "I have to leave for Rome soon." I snapped, my thoughts still very much on Anna. I wonder if he sensed this.

"Then go quickly and quietly. If you are seen, then this cemetery will be crawling with Vampire Hunters." He said, looking around wearily. "And be careful in Rome. The living can be just as evil as the dead."

I nodded, slipping down the stone steps in silence and scaling the wall of Egyptian Avenue and climbing through the barren tree branches like a wild animal. This behavior had become, unfortunately, old hat for me in my work at the Ministry. The branches tore at my clothes and hair, but I forced my way through the obstacle, slipping silently down into the place I called home.

Outside I could hear the kids moving along, which forced me to remain as silent as a vampire can. Dust lay thick on my rosewood coffin, but everything was just as I had left it in the summer.  
I felt a slight flame to my anger: I should not be treated as an intruder in my own house, but I had no other choice. Sanguini's fear had been legitimate.

My silent search turned up my treasured gun. I had stashed it snugly behind a loose stone in the wall, and when I pulled it out, I knew it would need cleaning badly before it was fit to fire.

A gun is a strange thing for someone within the Wizarding world to carry, but my gun had special significance. As beneficial as it would be for the Ministry to get a hold of it, I could never let that happen.

The Earl had retrieved it from the hands of Dr. Van Hellsing himself, and for the past forty-some years, I had used it to kill other Vampires. My gun was more notorious than I was, something that seemed ironic.

I caressed the delicate silver barrel of the sleek weapon, my fingertips curling around the filigreed handle before I tucked it into my bag. I could hear the sounds of the teenagers coming closer, so I quickened my pace, quickly exiting my tomb and running out into the frosty night.

I don't know if they saw me, but I could hear them as if they were perusing me. I ran through the field of graves, pushing past the briers and the bramble that stood in my way. My clothing was torn and rent, my skin scratched in some places and oozing stale blood. I would have to feed before I reported to the Ministry, and the state of my clothing would only further Cornelius Fudge's smug sense of 'Human' superiority.

I tripped on a tree branch, my heart racing as I scramble upwards. I couldn't use my powers here and risk exposing the other Vampires, as tempting as it was to eliminate these kids.

After what felt like hours of running, I reached the West end of the cemetery, scaling the wall and landing in an almost empty street full of small shops and a few pubs and coffee houses.

I spotted a Muggle about my size and age smoking on a street corner, oblivious to my sudden appearance. She was wearing loose-fitting, baggy pants and a black tank-top. Her hair was shaved into a Mohawk, which had been dyed bright pink, and spiked leather collars adorned her neck and wrists. She was decorated from head to toe in chains and spikes and lace, what a Muggle would call a 'punk', I suppose. She looked like a relatively easy target.

I gripped my bag tighter and took a deep breath, crossing the street.

"Excuse me, can you tell me the directions to Kings Cross?" I asked the girl, looking around for any other Muggles who might see me.

After a few moments of talking back and fourth, I struck, sinking my teeth into her neck. She didn't fight, but rather, went calmly, with a small cry and very little fuss. I was thankful, because when a victim fights, it only makes it more painful for them, and adrenaline makes the blood taste sour.

I hid her body back in the cemetery and went on my way, the chains swinging loudly on my hips. It made me feel dark and mysterious, perhaps more like a Vampire should. I had had enough of velvet and lace for a while. People didn't seem to cast me a second glance as they had before, my pale skin and black hair fitting in with the rest of the people in this district.

I could have fed for hours on these people and their street culture, but one was enough. I did not like to glut myself on blood as many Vampires did. It was pointless to take a life for such a stupid and arrogant reason.

I settled myself on a rooftop overlooking the streets of London, my shining gun balanced on my knee in the moonlight and my gun-cleaning kit beside me.

An hour later, I was striding across the Atrium, past the Fountain of Magical Brethren inside the Ministry's headquarters.

Much to the dismay of several people, Cornelius Fudge included, I strode right into the Minister of Magic's office without warrant or warning. It was something I had never dreamt of before I met Anna, but something about her sheer existence gave me the courage to face down my 'oppressors': the men who had turned my afterlife into a mere tool.

"Good evening, Monsieur Fudge." I said with a smile, placing my hands on his desk palms-down and smiling at him from behind my black bangs. "What's this I hear about the Illuminati?"

"Ah, Miss Black…" the older man stammered, scooting away from me slightly, which only served to widen my smile. I'd never seen him this flustered. "Illuminati?"

"Surely you know as well as I do that where there is a concentration of Sanguarians, there will be an Illuminati or two…It's Vampire 101. I'd hate to think that you were sending me into a situation I couldn't handle…"

"Of course not!" Fudge bit at me, straightening his robes and tossing a file onto the desk. "I have full confidence that you can handle this..."

"There were kids in the cemetery tonight, they were wearing signs of the Illuminati…"

"You know…muggle kids…" Fudge stammered, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his chair. "Obsessed with the occult…like that girl you've been hanging out with…Annabelle Le Croux…"

I pretended not to be bothered by him using her name. Fudge thought that he had played his trump card, and the truth was, he had.

I tried not to shift, to let my smile fall, but a slow smirk spread across his face. Inwardly, I wondered which one of his dogs had informed him of Anna's existence.

"The Illuminati. The Sanguarians. What is going on in Rome?" I asked with a startling shortness.

"War, my dear Integra, an all out war." Fudge said, tapping his papers on the desk. "I'm sending you down to deal with negotiations…"

"What makes you think they will listen to me?"

Fudge smirked and turned away, grabbing a file from his pile and handing it to me. "It seems in your stay at Hogwarts, you have forgotten who you are. Vampires fear you as they feared Dr. Van Hellsing, the Illuminati will recognize your fame."

"You said you knew nothing about the Illuminati…"

"I never said that, my dear."

I stood up, crossing my arms, careful of my spiked wrists. He had a point, much as I didn't want to admit it, but it led me to wonder what and how much of it he wasn't telling me.

.oOo.

* * *

A/n: now were getting into the 'Italy' arc of the story. I'm having a fair amount of trouble writing it for some reason. This chapter was short because of this.

On Sunday (Valentines day), I jokingly asked the girl I'm writing this for if she would be my valentine via text message. She said 'It's better than some of my options'. It's not a yes, but it's not a no, either. ;) She still doesn't know about this story.

Review! I need the encouragement sometimes.


	5. Dante and The Death of Signora Luchia

.oOo.

Words cannot describe how much I hate traveling via portkey. While I must confess they are terribly clever inventions, they were designed for the use of the Living, and I found out the hard way about four years ago that I must first transform into my vampire form before using one. I am not entirely certain what happened or why, but my unfortunate discovery resulted in my spending a week inside my beloved coffin, recuperating.

Not only is the use of a portkey potentially painful for Vampires, there is very little romance to it. Unlike traveling by train, broom, beast, or foot, you vanish from one place and are sucked into another. Yes, it's handy, but there's some charm lost in it.

I arrived in Rome just hours before dawns bitter light broke over the high temple rooftops.

There was something cold about the city of Rome, some looming sense of dread that frayed on the edge of my subconscious as I watched the moon sink behind the voluminous clouds, now turning pink with fresh sunlight.

I was tired from using the portkey, my energy already running low from barely getting any sleep in the days before. I had been too obsessed with saying goodbye to Anna. The memory of her face as I pulled away on the Hogwarts Express was almost painful. I would have gladly taken her with me, had this mission not wreaked of danger. She was far to precious to risk…

I stumbled down the alley between a church and a bakery, my stomach twisting into knots as I did so. I felt the taste of stale blood in my mouth and wretched behind a dumpster, clutching the wall of the church for support.

I made a mental not that portkey's were now only to be used in emergencies.

Still in my vampire form, I slipped along the shadows of the street, sleep pulling at my eyes.

I feel right now I must take a moment to comment on Vampires and Vampire form. Much like lycanthopes, regrettably, our physical being and senses are much changed.

Describing the physical assets we posses, our bodies are thicker, more muscular, and a little taller and rather gruesome in appearance. Our skin is a mottled dark bluish-grey, almost black in some places, and we have large, bat-like wings that are unfortunately quite cumbersome when walking on foot. Our hair grows wiry and black and in extreme cases it takes on a very mane-like appearance. Perhaps the most striking and disturbing thing to me is our absence of external reproductive areas, though the females, such as myself, still have some semblance of breasts.

Our senses are heightened beyond mortal capacity. On a clear night, we can see for miles in minute detail, and our hearing is just as good, albeit painful on occasions. We are stronger and faster than any living soul, and as fast as the wind itself when the desire so moves us. Our sense of touch, however, is greatly lessened due to the thick, armor like quality of our skin.

The full form can take decades to master, if one is a slow learner like myself. I myself have only half mastered it, so I apparently resemble some kind of grotesque hybrid, though my senses are uncanny. I slipped behind a dumpster, clutching the wall for support as I changed painfully back into my human form, barely having time to dress properly before I heard something at the end of the alley.

On this night, it was not easy to miss the scent of fresh blood and smoke, and I had every reason to be paranoid.

I peered around the side of the dumpster and spotted a dark figure standing at the end of the ally. I fell silent, taking a deep breath as I called upon every ounce of my energy. My fingers curled around my gun inside my backpack, my fingers dancing across it's etched barrel. It's make was Winchester, but from what I understood, it was one of a set of six special-made revolvers commissioned in the late 1800's by a man named Quincy Morris, especially crafted to fight off vampires...

"Stai bene? Signorina Vampiro? È che voi?"

My gun was out and loaded no sooner than the sentence had been finished, aimed directly at the dark haired young man in black and silver robes. He raised his hands nervously, dropping his wand at his feet. I may be worn out, but my reflexes are still faster than humans.

"British Ministero della Magia, sì? Signorina Black?"

I didn't lower my gun, but eyed him wearily, subconsciously growling slightly.

"Who is asking? Do you speak the Queen's English?"

"Si, I was waiting you farther down the road, Signorina Black. I am Dante Esposito." He strode towards me, his black and silver robes swirling around him. I eyed him wearily as I lowered my gun, un-cocking it and placing it back into my bag.

"Pleased to meet you." I said stiffly, offering my hand. He took it in a sweeping, familiar gesture that only Tepes had been allowed to show me many years before. He pressed my cold hand against his lips, his dark eyes peering into mine as he whispered, velvet lips brushing over my skin. "The pleasure is complete mine, signorina."

He made me feel uneasy on the inside, but he appeared to be honest, leading me into the back of a delicatessen that served as the main portal to their Ministry's Headquarters. I spoke very briefly with the Italian Minister of Magic, a portly man in green velvet robes whom had a great, black mustache and a taste for fine wine.

I was leery, but polite as he explained the situation. I pressed many questions to him, and the more wine that passed his thick lips the more easily the answers slipped out until finally he confessed the truth.

"My dear signorina, the Sanguarians are not as refined as the Nosferatu such as yourself. They are dirty, conniving creatures without a since of respect or loyalty…" I could see tears forming in his drunken eyes as he spoke, dissolving into sobs. "We sought out the Illuminati to rid Rome of them once and for all, but when the Sanguarians discovered this…" He was positively wailing by now. I sat frozen, unsure of what to do to console him. I patted his hand stiffly, offering an attempt at a warm smile.

"There there, Minister De Lombardi…" I muttered, leaning forward. "Go on, I'll see what I can do…"

"Oh Thank you, than you, Signorina! Grazie Mille!" He dissolved into garbled Italian as he gripped my hand firmly. " My wife, my wife…she is a vampire now. Mi familia…"

I closed my other hand around his, knitting my eyebrows. "This is revenge from the Sanguarians for hiring the Illuminati? And what of the Illuminati?"

This only produced more sobs from the minister. "Signorina, you are so kind, so kind, it's such a shame…Sei molto bella…"

"Please, sir, just…tell me of the Illuminati?"

"They wage war continuously…" He sobbed. "Every night the burning, the scent of flesh…my son, oh my son…they killed him without mercy…"

"Your son was turned into a vampire, then?" I asked, forcing a softness to my voce.

"Si, si…Signorina, please…you are the only one that can put an end to this, they tell me. You are the liaison between life and death, si?"

I shook me head. Now he was just uttering nonsense.

"Just tell me what needs to be done."

XxX

I could hear screams echoing down the long corridors as Dante led me noiselessly through the damp darkness. I could hear Dante's breathing, hindered slightly by the scent of mold, his black ponytail shining dimly in the pale light. His wand cast a dim light across the dark expanse as he counted the cells, a set of ancient keys jingling in his pale fingers.

In the back of my mind there was a sense of dread, like I was coming to some great and terrible fat down here, like a prisoner to their execution or a lamb to the slaughter. My thoughts traveled to Anna, and if I was to die in this place, what would become of her, what would she think of me?

Dante stopped suddenly, his black boots making a slight scuffing sound on the stones as he turned to speak to me over the din of loud wailing beyond the door.

"In here, Signorina." he said softly, his key at ready. I drew my gun, loading the copper-cased bullets into the small chambers.

He shoved the key into the lock, his slender hands shaking slightly as he struggled to lift the heavy handle. Already I could smell the stale blood, my heart dreading what awaited beyond that doorway.

It swung open to a surprisingly well lit chamber, the skeletal frame of a woman pinioned to the wall with large manacles. Her hair had once been dark, curly, well-groomed, her skin once a deep shade of olive, round and plump with beauty and grace.

She lifted her head when we entered, her face full and voluptuous despite her wretched body. Her full, red lips curved into a smile, though her crimson eyes reflected a look of sheer hatred.

"Intega Black…" She sneered in a thick, Italian accent, her sharp teeth positively glinting in the binding light. "the British Ministry's housepet…"

I pointedly cocked my gun, her voice sending chills down my spine. I took a deep breath, unsure of how to answer such a comment, if I should answer.

"Signorina, do not waist your breath on this monster." Dante said, his dark eyes flicking over to her, his voice raising to deliberately, as if to enflame her anger.

"Nothing is wasted, Mr. Esposito, I assure you." I said stiffly. Part of me wondered if perhaps her being a monster had been subtly aimed at myself, but I was also aware of the differences in the two races of vampires and it was true: Sanguarians were not as evolved as Nosferatu.

The woman seemed to guess at my thoughts, for her smile widened. "You will find no friends in the men of Italy."

I raised my gun and looked at her, drawing the barrel level with her heart. "I don't expect to, my dear. It's just business." and overwhelming feeling came over me as her crimson eyes peered into mine. it felt as if she were probing my mind, prying it open for the world to see…

I struggled not to think of Anna, to keep my thoughts and feeling locked away, but it felt as if she were tearing at them, digging them up to the surface where they began to bloom like flowers.

A name stuck out above the blur of dark, despairing thoughts:

Lillith_, Lilith…**LILLITH**!_

The woman's smile widened grotesquely, as if she were attempting to show me all of her disgusting teeth. I shuddered inwardly, my hands shaking as my feelings morphed into thoughts and ideas, into visions, as if telling me the future. I closed my eyes as the visions swam before me like black in swirling in clear water.

Anna…

What was this cruel power?

Now laughter, the chamber was filled with laughter and Dante fell to his knees, his hands over his head and his face contorted into a wince that was the epitome of internal pain.

"Nosferatu, If you shoot me, if you kill me, you will-" she didn't have time to finish the sentence before I squeezed the trigger.

The shot rang out, followed promptly by the sound of organic material spattering the flagstone.

"Burn her body, scatter the ashes at a crossroads…" I instructed harshly , wiping some of the crimson blowback from my brow as I looked down at my gun.  
"S-Si…." Dante whispered, trembling as he stared at the remains of the woman in horror. "Is…is she truthfully gone?"

"Yes." I put my gun away, placing one hand on Dante's back and the other on his arm, pulling him up. His face was wet with blood and tears and he looked stunned.

"Come…I'm sure the Minister will let you rest. I'll make the report…"

"No…" Dante waved his trembling hand to dismissed the thought. "No, Signorina Black, I…The Minister needs to hear from me. She was mother…"

"Mr. Esposito…?" I was shocked enough to nearly let go of him, though he hung on my neck like a small child. It made no sense. De Lombardi? Esposito? "Come…the sooner we're…" I stopped, gasping out of habit rather than need of air. Over the scent of blood, I smelled something else, something so distinctive that It made me recoil slightly. Dante sensed this, and his wet black eyes looked up at me.

"Dante, tell me truthfully, I beg of you…"

"I don't know them…" He said, his shaking body straightening up a little as he pushed his way in front of me, his dark eyes peering into the hallway.

I grabbed him back, throwing him into the corner as a burst of fire permeated the small room. I covered him foolishly, the searing heat scorching my back as I shivered from the pain. He trembled beneath me as I felt tears of pain leaving their bloody trails down my face.

"Signorina Integra!" I felt him push me back, his dark robes covering my face. I felt a familiar sensation tearing a hole behind my navel, jerking me painfully into oblivion. Moment's later, I landed on the floor of Mr. De Lombardi's office, our entwined limbs akimbo as we struggled to right ourselves.

I smelled men, their dark cloaks strangely damp and wreaking of incence. Dante shoved me out of the way as I felt a wooden stake narrowly miss my shoulder, impaling the young man's hand instead. Dante let out a cry, his black eyes streaming tears.

I could smell blood. I wanted blood. My body thirsted for the life-fluid…and Dante's…sweet, virgin blood…

"What is going on?" He cried as I grabbed him about the chest, running towards the wide, velvet lined windows. I felt spells singing past us, my own energy draining quickly. Two portkey's in one day…I gasped as a voice rose high above the rest.

"Signorina Integra Wilhelmina Bellatrix Black, you are wanted for the murder of Signora Luchia Maria De Lombardi and Signor Dante Augustine Esposito."

With one last heave, I put two and two together, as, I am certain, did Dante, and he and I leapt together through the window, the glass tearing at our flesh. We only had moments to react as the ground raced towards us.

I felt great, black wings rip through my clothing as they unfurled, my arms gripping Dante close as he fired off spells over my shoulders. I could smell his blood, all over me, like sweet candy. It was intoxicating, but I had to maintain a clear head.

"Dome is protected by magic." He cautioned as I neared the hole in the tope that owls were allowed to escape through.

Without another word, I thrust him up, through the hole, circling around for a moment after I was certain he was through. The Italian officials advanced on broomsticks, firing spells, many of which I either dodged or my thick, vampire skin absorbed. I had to time this right…

I swooped back towards the hole, grasping Dante's good hand and using the very last of my energy to transform back. I could see Dante's black, almond eyes full of fear and determination, his hand slick with sweat and blood as he struggled to pull me through the hole.

"Come, Signorina, hold tightly…" His voice rose in panic as I struggled against the edges of the hole.

I had barely enough time to squeeze myself through the hole before one of the wizards had the sense to seal it. Upon reaching the bright sunlight outside, Dante and I found ourselves sitting on a rooftop overlooking the city.

"Come, we have no time left." I said, pulling him up as my knees buckled slightly. "We have to get back to England and explain the situation."

"Si, Signorina."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ A/N:Sorry for slow updates! Life and death tend to get in my way more than I would like. :(

Dante is supposed to speak kind of broken English/ improper grammar and placement of words. I loosely based him off of an Italian exchange student I hung out with in college. He's going to prove to be a bit of a problem for Integra, though Anna is going to be the worst of all, even more than the Illuminati.


	6. The Methuselah's Approach

The following few days were touch and go. Initially, we hid in a small orchard, Dante putting up a small protection charm while I rested. He was startlingly kind to me, and I to him, and it became clear that his situation had been similar to mine. Dante was the bastard son of his mother's relations to an unnamed wizard, his mother later marrying the Minister when Dante was still in school. Minister De Lombardi had not been and unkind stepfather to Dante, but Dante had always felt he was an intrusion in his mother's 'new life', especially after his younger brother was born.

He explained that after school, his mother had implored Mr. De Lombardi to take Dante on as his personal assistant, and Mr. De Lombardi had reluctantly agreed.  
Then the War of Vampires came. It seemed that what Mr. De Lombardi had told me was true, for Dante's story confirmed it, though Dante implied that they had hired Illuminati to purge Rome.

When asked him why he had complied to leading me to his mother's death, he was silent for a long time, his face clearly troubled.

"She was not a woman I knew. She was different from when she was alive." He looked up at me with those sad black eyes. "I do not know what occurs when one becomes a vampire, but it was not my mother."

His eyes were upon me, as if he expected me to hold the answer to his mother's fate, but I held my tongue, reluctant to speak of something I did not fully understand.

We traveled using any means possible, reaching the border of France in less than twenty four hours. It was a difficult journey over cliffs, rocks, and rivers, and Dante knew nothing about healing his injuries, so he crudely bandaged his hand and tried to limp through. Three days later, I forced him to stop and rest, expressing concern over the infection that was beginning in his hand.

"It would seem that the entire world is ready to be purged of vampires." I said thoughtfully one night as we looked over the hills of eastern France, the countryside bathed in the dying sunlight. Dante shivered slightly, his body close to mine as if expecting warmth. I could smell the growing infection in his hand, but he was reluctant to let me look at it. Dante remained silent for a long time, his face troubled as he wrapped himself tighter in his cloak.

"Integra, I am sorry for this happening to you." He spoke slowly in his charming, slightly broken English.

I looked up at him from beneath my bangs, raising one eyebrow. "What is happening to me?"

"I did not think that vampires were like you before. I see now that…it is possible for humans and vampires to exist in the same. Now we are both hunted like animals."

I shook me head at the nonsense of his words as I struggled to decode it. "It is nothing new. Vampires and humans always struggled for dominance: Vampires hunt humans, humans hunt vampires. It is a cycle that will never end so long as the two races exist. Article 12 can only do so much for us, and still, it's seen as a mere suggestion by many, not a law…"

His black eyes followed me, his mind slowly comprehending the English. It was now one of those times that I wished for some of Anna's talent for foreign languages.

"Do you ever wonder about how vampires beginnings?"

"Do you?"

"Yes, I think. I wonder if vampires origins can make us exist together."

I smiled slightly at his pipe dream. "You should get some rest, Dante. The infection is spreading to your brain, I believe."

He nodded slowly, rolling in his cloak and clasping his slender fingers in the fine black velvet. He looked thin and fatigued in his sleep, and I stood to go search for food for both he and I. I knew the infection was slowing him down, but he refused to do anything about it, clearly concerned for our mutual safety above his own comfort. I explained to him that it would be useless to return to Britain with a corps, but he remained adamant that he would be fine, though I could sense the doubt in his mind.

As I left our hiding place, I paused, looking back. There was something about him that was like Anna, though lacking the poisonous fire that she possessed, he was strong, stubborn and relentless about those he assumed friendships with.

I went into the small town, using a fair amount of energy to transform myself into mist, hoping to avoid the watchful eye of any wizards that may inhabit the village.

I waited silently in the shadows, waiting for some feeble, waking human to fall pray to my technique: vampires cannot enter houses uninvited. As I have stated before, I can use a small amount of manipulation, the weaker the mind the more effective I am.

This was, perhaps, the fist time I have truly felt like a monster, preying on the weak out of desperation. I told myself that it was for Dante's safety as well, but then I found myself asking why I cared so much. It went, it seemed, beyond the selfish wish to prove my innocence, as if I were bringing him to England for a higher purpose that I had yet to understand.

It was a series of questions I could not immediately answer, but had come up many times during our week-long travels from Italy to Northern France.  
I found a small shop that was still open, taking a few blankets, some food, and what I suspected, and hoped, due to my extremely limited French, was some antibacterial salve.

Outside, I walked openly in the shadows, my senses ablaze. My sense of smell was useless in a town full of strangers, the scent of pumping blood fresh in the air, thus I fell upon my keen hearing and sight to aid in my hunt. I came across a drunk laying in the ally and stopped to ply him with questions and perhaps lure him into being my next victim.

He looked up at me wearily from beneath two great, grey eyebrows, and spoke in slurred, angry French, telling me get out. I backed away as he rose, my eyes wide. He took a swing at me, and I spotted an Illuminati pendant hanging about his neck. My body went rigid as he pulled out a gun.

"I have found you." He snarled in a thick, Dutch accent. "You filthy abomination."

I nearly dropped the blankets, backing away. I couldn't run off to Dante, I couldn't lead them to him…

"Ye have been judged and found wanting, oh child of darkness. Ye forsaken child of God."

I pulled out my Winchester, shooting him in the shoulder to delay him as I retreated onto the rooftops.

I could sense others moving around me, a man in a long coat leaping onto the rooftop.

"The Bride of Vladislav Dracula, we meet for the first time, und ze last." The man said in a dark, German accent.

"Sayonara." I said suddenly, backing almost directly into one of the men that surrounded me, my hand grasping the pendant around his neck. I yanked him forward, using him a a human shield as the chain snapped, rosary beads bouncing on the hard rooftop. The rest of the Illuminati that had gathered there opened fire on their comrade, but I disappeared into the night, my body becoming one with the low clouds that hung over. I was untraceable as a cloud of mist, save for the supplies I had to carry back to Dante. I swooped into our hiding place to find Dante trapped in a restless sleep. Wrapped him in the blankets, rousing him and forcing him to eat.

"We have to get out of here. I'm certain they've got an eye on the English channel…"

"What now will you do?" He asked, offering me a chunk of bread.

"I don't know. You have the ability to apparate, but my hands are tied…" I said hurriedly, cleaning up the encampment. "I should have…" I heaved a sigh, looking up at him and tossing him the salve. "My judgment hasn't been the best of late, and I'm sorry for getting you into this situation."

He looked down at the salve in bewilderment, then casting me a nervous look.

"Integra…" He raised the tube to get a clearer look at it. "What is this for?"

"Your hand." I said thoughtlessly, looking around. "You need to head to England…I'll meet you in the churchyard in the village of Chedder…" I stopped, my senses ablaze as the hair on the back of me neck stood on end. There was another vampire here….

XxX

* * *

A/n: Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

She still doesn't know about this. She fails at stalking.

Review plox?


	7. The Incedent

Dante disappeared, but I remained in that place for a little longer, as if daring the vampire to make itself known.

I could feel and smell it just beyond the edge of the clearing, circling as if I were it's prey but always remaining hidden from sight.

I cocked my gun, raising it in the vampires direction. I didn't want to shoot if it wasn't required, as it would alert the Illuminati to my exact location.

I heard a voice, gentle and lilting singing to me in a slightly mocking tone in a language I did not know, the song tugging at a unkempt memory of a man softly crooning to himself.

"Who goes there? Reveal yourself, you undead maggot!"

Nothing.

"Have you ever drank the blood of another Vampire?" The voice was smooth and deep, making my body recoil slightly as a face appeared between the branches of the trees that bordered the forest that had surrounding Dante and I's hiding place. I had never seen a face like this man's before.

It was as smooth and flawless as a porcelain mask, it's eyes blank and black. At first, I thought it was one of the porcelain Noh-masks I'd seen in pictures of Japanese theater, but I didn't have enough time to discern otherwise before I felt it behind me, it's hand on my neck and arms, holding me down. I felt my body stiffen, the vampire's lips brushing against my neck as I suddenly had a flashback to the Clearing in 1943, the count's icy lips on my skin, the feel of his beard tingling against my throat moments before he tore into the flesh. But the tearing feeling didn't come.

I felt tears of sorrow and joy leaking form my eyes, staining the collar of my shirt crimson.

"Angels weep tears of blood…" He muttered, craning his neck to lick my cheek with his long, surprisingly red tongue. "My dear, our meeting is not by chance."

"Release me." I hissed. I hated this, I hated him. I had never before had anyone hold such forceful power over me as he did in this clearing.

I felt his teeth sink into my neck, but never rip away. I cried out: the pain was excruciating, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Why was it so painful for me dead but not living?

"Stop!" I began to fight against him, my strength draining with my blood as my flesh ripped away in the struggle.

"As you wish, my darling, but be swift, for the Dogs of Hell nip at thine heels and the Bastions of Heaven seek to clip thine wings…" He muttered, touching my cheek one last time before disappearing into mist.

I do not know for how long he had held me under his power, but by the time he released me, the sun was turning the sky a soft shade of pink and I could hear dogs barking nearby, the sounds of voices calling in the hunt and heavy boots crunching through the underbrush, breaking the sacred silence. I could still feel the vampire's presence, though it was dispersed all around me like the shadows.

I clutched my neck as I struggled to transform, blood gushing forth in great bursts. I wanted to lay down and rest for a moment, but the baying of the dogs and the sound of men drawing near forced me to struggle to my feet.  
"Go. I will protect you from here."  
I let out a keening wail: that voice! It was too much like…  
"Just go, you foolish girl!"  
Without another thought, I took flight, spreading my great black wings into the morning sky. Below, I could hear the singing of bullets, the vampire's voice ringing in my head. It felt as if I were being torn asunder from within, fire burning at my heart.

It was a voice I had never thought I'd hear again, and now that I had, I burned with anger at it's mocking use. But surely no one could so closely mimic the way the Count had held me, but alas, it was impossible.

I had disposed of his body myself.

They next few days I was on the run, heading east into Germany, my body shriveled and shrunken from the loss of blood. The wound on my neck remained open, for I lacked the strength to close it. Some poor hausfrau lost a clean bedsheet to me, but someone's darling lost a lot more as I overtook a victim within the same hour. I had never hunted with as much savage desperation as I did now, chasing the poor man down and ally and sucking him dry. I was not as careful as I usually was, and I felt pity, for the young man's death was not as swift and clean as I usually hope.

Once I had a little blood in me, I felt I had the time to rest, sitting quietly with the gargoyles upon the top of the small villages church. It was times like this that made me thankful to live in England, my lifestyle now seeming cushy in retrospect, and it made me think of Anna.

More than once, I had tempted the thought of Turning her, of having her by my side for all eternity, even if it was only someone to pass the idle hours with.  
But now, it seemed, that It was something I should never do under any extreme circumstance.

XxX

It took me an extra four days to return to England, which was done via a merchant ship named the 'Czarina Catharine III'. I was able to pass for one of the Living, a wide scarf wrapped around my neck to hide my unexplainably still unhealed wound. No one cast me a second glance, due to the cold.

When we reached England, and I immediately set out for Cheddar, fearing the worst of Dante. He was a tough guy, deep down, but the infection in his hand had been bad enough that I held cause for concern.

He was well enough, though, I did not find him in the churchyard, I found him at a small Wizarding inn nearby, where the innkeeper had been kind enough to put him up under the premise of work.

Dante looked right at home serving drinks from a large barrel, a white towel slung over his arm.

I don't know if he recognized me at first, but his face paled upon the realization that I was there.

"Signorina, you appear terribly! Are you ill?" He instinctively put his hand to my forehead, withdrawing it with a wince as he sat down, his face concerned. "You are icy."

"I'm always like that…"

"You look as death has touched you."

I looked at him reluctantly. "It may have. How is your hand? Were you followed?"

He sat down, shaking his head. "Not followed, no. I am safe here, I believe." He held out his hand, showing me the extent of his injury, which still wreaked of infection. "I can cover this with gloves, people believe me. England is such a wonderful place, everyone is nice."

"That's good. That's very good." I said, looking around. In the shadows opposite to us, I could make out a man through the thick smoke, his eyes following our every movement. "Dante, I need an owl, can you get that for me?"

"Si, friend-Integra. It is no problem." He rose up and left, and I took out a piece of parchment and a quill form my backpack, scribbling a quick note to Dumbledore, giving a vague explanation of the events in Rome, and the promise of explaining more once I reached the sanctity of Hogwarts. By the time I had finished, Dante had brought me the owl.

The owl soared off into the starry night as the last drunk crawled out of the pub. Dante and the innkeeper's daughters were closing up, but it seemed they didn't notice the man that still sat in the shadows.

I signaled discreetly to one of the girls, a fair haired, cherub faced teen with a sadly foul temperament. I recognized her as a third year Slytherin girl whom often doled out trouble without hesitation.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for bothering you, but that man over there…"

The girl looked at me as if I had just spat poison at her feet. "There's no one over there except for the dog."

I sat back with a frown, excusing myself as politely as possible.

"The light must have played tricks on my eyes, my apologies."

"Indeed." the girl said rudely, taking the full glass of water off of my table. Dante excused himself from the girls' company, leading me outside a few steps before stopping.

"Let us be swift, I do not know if they will be dropping the roof." He said with a shiver, a silver halo of breath clinging around his olive-skinned face as soft snowflakes fell around us.

I nodded once I realized he meant 'eavesdropping', leaning closer and dropping my voice. "As soon as the owl gets back, we will leave immediately…"  
"That won't be until the daytime."

"That is fine. I'll hide in the cemetery until then. Tell no one where I am under any circumstances…" I glanced over at the open pub door, where a large black dog stood silhouetted against the amber lights. The black dog was simply staring at up, it's doleful eyes burning with unreadable emotion.

"Dante…come find me as soon as the owl returns with a reply, not a moment later, and be ready to leave here at once."

"I understand…won't you be more uncomfortable inside?"

It took me a second to register what he had said, but I nodded. "I'll be fine, don't worry about me. And Dante…be very careful of that dog."

XxX

I was thankful of the silence of Cheddar's Cemetery, it's perfectly trimmed trees dotting around the headstones, providing sufficient shadows in the moonlight.

There is something to vampires about their native soil that lends them strength, be it mentally or physically I do not know.

The caves here had long ago been the hiding places of the Wizarding community during the times when wizards and witches were hunted and burned.

I wasn't certain how I felt about this, now being an international fugitive in the Wizarding community, but the fact that I had Dante out there, alive and doubtably well would certainly shed light on the truth of what had transpired in Italy.

I trudged through the thick snow that lay on the dark path. In the town itself, there had been a soft halo of pinkish orange to illuminate the way, but out here is was lessened to a deep blue-black, which made it easier for my eyes to focus on the wintry world around me.

I could hear the soft whispering of the trees, the night birds inside them startled by the sudden and silent appearance of an intruder. I found a raised tomb, sitting back against the cold granite and looking up into the low clouds. How had things gone so ill so fast, and why?

As I sat in silent contemplation, I smelled he scent of the dog from the inn drawing near and withdrew farther into the shadows of the snowy overhang. I felt a sudden burning sensation from the open wound in my neck, the heavy knitted wool from my scarf scraping against the raw opening.

It was sniffing me out, drawing nearer and nearer to me as I pulled farther into the snowy overhang. I thought out my situation carefully. There was no doubt in my mind the 'dog' was an animagus, but having seen the scant list of registered animagii, I couldn't recall who all were registered as a dogs...

I sprang out of the shadows, my gun drawn and loaded, pinning the dog to the ground, burying the barrel in the shaggy fur on it's head. I felt two hands around my neck, cold fingers plunging into the open wound, making me cry out in pain and shock. I squeezed the trigger impulsively, but missed his head and fired straight into he snow-covered ground.

I looked down into the face of a wild, shaggy haired man who's hollowed dark eyes were staring up into mine.

"Stop it. If you shoot again, this entire cemetery will full of muggle and wizard police…neither of us want that."

"Sirius Black."

"Integra Black." He said with a smooth smile.

I pushed the barrel of my gun against his forehead and he tightened his grip on my neck.

"I'd hoped that the rumors weren't true. I'd hoped you weren't a vampire." He said quietly, dropping his hands and wiping the stale blood off on his striped prison robes. I didn't relent, still pressing the barrel of my gun into his skin. His voice was gravely and horse from disuse, and his face gaunt, though he was smiling.

"What do you want, you filthy maggot?" I snarled, cocking the gun for another shot.

"I just wanted to see the daughter I never knew."

I hissed, shifting the gun. "You…" I trailed off, suddenly laughing. He looked up bewildered, though It took me a few minutes to recover.

"It' strange, I think I would have remembered your mother…"

"I am sorry to disappoint you, but you are mistaken. I am the daughter of Sirius Black, but my bastard of a father died in 1952. You are not the first to make that mistake."

I had never seen a man look so crushed in his life, but despite this, he was still a criminal, and may well be my ticket to freedom…

"Now…it's time for you to die you dirty dog…"

"Signorina Integra!" I heard footsteps coming towards me and I felt a hand grip the back of my coat, yanking me back. I looked up into the face of Dante, and back at Sirius, who was laying sprawled on his back, staring at me from over his chest.

"I cannot let you do that, Integra, and this is why, I tell you." Dante held up one finger on his undamaged hand. In the dim light, his eyes were a twinkle. "Because I will help you prove your innocence, as will Signor Dumbledore!" He held up a piece of parchment. "Your owl came. It is quite useless for you to kill a person, now, in England."

"Let go of me, Dante!" I snarled as Sirius Black scrambled away, his shadowed eyes fading to a faint glow. I was angry on so many levels, at Sirius for interrupting my planned routine and further injuring me, and at Dante for interrupting me. I could have used Sirius's head as a bargaining tool…

Perhaps that is what led up to the 'Incident', I don't know how or why it happened. I still feel guilt for it, even thought Dante has assured me that he doesn't hold me guilty.

The gun had gone off in my hand, rupturing Dante's side. I smelled the blood before I had even realized what had happened, before I felt the wetness of his blood saturating my clothes. I don't quite know what came over me, but I felt my teeth sink into Dante's flesh.

I heard a scream, I felt his hands pushing against me, I felt the flesh rip away as Sirius pulled him back, stepping between us, pressing an upturned wooden grave marker into my breasts until I felt a sharp jab in my flesh. Dante's blood was in my mouth, running down my face when I realized what I had done. I had never seen such a look of perfect horror on someone's face, and Sirius's fierce expression…he could have very well replaced me as a vampire hunter right there…

I backed up, falling in the snow. I had never done such a thing before. I had never been so impulsive, to attack a comrade without thinking, just because I was starved for blood…

What if it had been Anna?

XxX

* * *

A/n: A quickie update right before finals. I have other stories to work on, but I keep fixating on this one.

Integra is such a mary-sue, but I think, honestly, that it's impossible to write a vampire that isn't. I mean, look at Lestat from the Vampire Chronicles and Alucard from Hellsing.

Sorry, vodka fueled authors note. I should know better by now.


	8. The Last Return

Sirius, I can now say for certain, is a man who possesses a great gentleness in his heart of hearts, despite his fierce exterior. I do not believe that he did, or would ever, harbor the will to do a true wrong.

He is not a Black of the family I knew, for perhaps if I had met any family member such as he, I would not have been so dour in Life.

Miraculously, he was able to console Dante, who's panicked and somewhat effeminate frenzy was unlike any I had seen, but even more miraculously, he was able to calm me long enough to get Dante the help he needed. I was afraid to use magic, technically being an 'underage' wizard, the Ministry could and would, no doubt, track me via my wand. I wouldn't have put it past them, anyhow.

Surgeons are difficult to come by, especially in the small hours of the morning, but this was what Dante was in dire need of. I found a sleepy Muggle Veterinarian, whom I was able to enchant long enough to stop the bleeding and fix him up enough for me to get him to Hogwarts.

Dante was reluctant to go with me alone, but Sirius talked him into it. I asked Sirius to come with us, but he only let out a barking laugh.

"I think I've visited Hogwarts enough this month." Was his only reply before waving us off on a stolen broomstick.

I was careful, bordering on paranoid, when traveling with Dante now. I didn't want the frail, muggle stitches to tear open, nor was I certain when I would lose control over myself again. It scared me. Especially when I thought of Anna.

What if I couldn't control myself? There were many times when we were together that her blood could be…

Riding with Dante, his blood so close and fresh, was maddening. I took every ounce of my patience and careful self-discipline to just be that close to him, let alone have him between my arms. It didn't help that the muggle anesthetic was making him sleepy and dim. He was everything a vampire looked fro in a victim…

I shook my head as Dante and I dropped lower to the mountains, the trees rising to meet us. Hogsmead was drawing close…as was a horrible looking snowstorm. I dropped the broom lower to prevent getting caught up in the clouds.

"It's cold here." Dante murmured, his soft voice slurred softly.

"Just a bit longer, I promise…Madame Pomfrey will fix you up good as new…" I said with a forced cheer.

The tops of the trees were now literally touching our feet, and I was forced to pull up into the thin wisps of the clouds.

I circled the cemetery, spotting three ministry wizards hiding behind one of the mausoleum's. I scoffed, redirecting my course to the Forbidden Forest.

I could hear the wolves howling below, the centaurs capering on their nightly hunt, and the presence of a dark familiarity as smooth and as dark as black velvet. I shuddered, swooping up towards the castle, it's jewel-colored windows irradiant with warm light. Dante withdrew against me as I circled the Owlry, spotting Dumbledore holding a large, great horned owl in his left hand.

"Ah, Integra!" he called as I lighted down on the parapet, propping Dante up as carefully as I could. "I am pleased to see you have made it back with your head still attached. This must be Signor Esposito."

"Si." Dante slurred darkly from beneath the collar of his dark velvet robes. "Signore Dumbllly-dorrre….assume." He offered the older man a hand in a manner befitting of a woman expecting a kiss. Dumbledore let out a deep laugh at this, his blue eyes sparkling in the dim light.

"There was a terrible…" I stopped. I had almost said accident. It was no accident…I had deliberately gone after his blood. "Something terrible has happened…"

"There will be time to talk later, my dear Integra, but I see Signor Esposito is in need of medical attention."

XxX

I sat quietly in Dumbledore's office, staring up at the innumerable paintings of wizards and witches, many whispering quietly behind their hands as they stared back down at me. On Dumbledore's desk sat a recent copy of the Daily Prophet. I sat back in the carved wooden chair I had seated myself in. As tempting as it was, I didn't want to read whatever sordid lies the Ministry was spreading…

I heard the door open behind me, Dumbledore coming in looking more tired and drawn than I had ever seen him. I stood when he entered, folding my hands out of habit.

"So, how much damage is done? What is your body count?"

"Directly at my hand, there is only one: Mrs. De Lombardi…but Mr. Esposito and I were assaulted on the border of France and Germany by Illuminati. I had you use one as a human shield. I did not expect his comrades to disregard his life in such a crude way."

Dumbledore made a sound, looking down at me, his eyebrows drawing together until they nearly met in the middle.

"And how many borders did you cross? Just Italy, France, and England?"

"No, I personally had to go into Germany to evade the Illuminati. I sent Dante ahead to Cheddar."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, stoking his beard absently. "I see, I see…"

"How is Dante?"

"He's resting comfortably in the Hospital wing. I had to tell Madam Pomfrey what happened. She's concerned now."

"Are you concerned?"

Dumbledore stopped, looking at me patiently, resting a slender hand on my shoulder.

"Integra, I have known you for a very long time, and never have I assumed that you would be the sort to carry out a senseless attack such as this." He gripped my scarf now, pulling at the end. I winced as it moved across the raw flesh, the knit fabric coming off in Dumbledore's hands. "I do not believe that you intentionally injured our friend, Dante. But I have been wrong before." He added as an afterthought, tilting my head up and brushing stiff, black hair away from my wound.

He let out a sigh that seemed more sad than anything else. He handed the scarf back to me, sitting down at his desk. "I admit, it's not looking good for you, though."  
There was a considerable silence, Dumbledore deep in thought as we both peered into the fire.

"It would seem that there is a rough road ahead of you, Integra. Dante has agreed to plead your case before the Ministry, as will I. You needn't worry about that, but I wonder…that bite on your neck, the International Community's willingness to get rid of vampires…to get rid of you…it makes me wonder if there is a missing piece to this puzzle."

"Albus, if you know something that I don't…" He held up his hand, a slight smile gracing his features.

"I am not saying that, but I am saying that there is something amiss, and something that does not seem quite right here, especially now that we have a Methuselah on our hands."

"Do you really think that it was a Methuselah?" I asked, a prickle running down my skin as he spoke the old Hebrew name.

"Possibly, in fact, more possible than I would like it to be. It is possible that it was a vampire that can no longer sustain itself on human or animal blood and is thus reduced to drinking the blood of other vampires…or…" His silvery eyebrows knit together. "There is only one other vampire that I know of who engaged in this behavior, and I would like to think that he would be considerably less cruel…"

"You are acting as if is someone I know?"

Dumbledore looked at me from over the top of his spectacles. "Tell me everything that happened within the clearing."

I sat back, crossing my knees as I recounted the tale, thinking deeply as I did so. Clearly, there was something within the tale that Dumbledore wanted me to see for myself. A heavy silence fell upon the room when I finished, my eyes falling on him. I knew now what impossible thing it was that he wanted me to see.

"I do not believe it was the Count."

"Vlad was the only vampire of which I am aware that could recover from what he went through, and drinking the blood of other vampires would certainly aid in his…"

I stood up, anger surging through my veins. "Listen here, Albus! It is simply impossible! Why would he have waited so long to return to me! Why would he keep me waiting, why would he victimize me in such a dire time! It cannot be! He would not do that!" My voice had risen with such passion that it left a ringing silence in it's wake.

Dumbledore was still patient, his eyes following me with sad kindness.

"It is something we cannot dismiss, though. As I said, I cannot imagine him being so cruel about it, not to you, anyway. He was a ruthless man and a bloodthirsty king, but he loved you, Integra. He would not be so cruel to you."

I stood there, my arms shaking as I felt tears well up in my eyes. I didn't want to cry, not here, and not now, anyway. Dumbledore's expression softened and he sat down.

"I occasionally forget that you are not so young and foolish anymore. Forgive me."  
There was a heavy silence that fell, leaving only the murmur of the portraits and the whirr of innumerable brass instruments in it's wake. The fire popped, bringing me back to the present.

"How is Anna." I said softly.

A merry smile spread across Dumbledore's features at the change of subject.

"Ah, Miss Le Croux…I believe I have located her buried behind books over the course of the break…"

I nodded, placing my hands in the pockets of my tattered coat, looking down in hesitation.

"It is no sin, Integra, to feel the way you do. Annabelle is a charming young woman, her temper aside, there is very little about her that is not easy love."  
I looked up sheepishly. "Is it so obvious."

Dumbledore's twinkle was back, shining behind his half-moon spectacles. "Hardly."

My eyes closed to him and I let out a habitual sigh. "What am I going to tell her?"

"The truth, I hope."

XxX

I walked quickly beside Dumbledore, struggling even as a vampire to match the tall man's long strides.

It seemed as if there was a new understanding between he and I, as if a new chapter of friendship had began. I was still a little emotionally raw form his bring up the Count, but I knew this would heal with time. For the time being, though, it seemed as though I was finally making the bonds I had never had as a living person. I found it disgustingly ironic, to say the least.

The door to the Infirmary opened and I saw naught but a blur before I felt something hard collide with my face, a light weight hitting my chest. I stumbled back in surprise, not expecting to be assaulted so weakly within the sanctuary of Hogwarts.

I looked up to see Anna's green eyes narrow dangerously like a cats, glasses agleam in the bright light. Her jaw was set in a manner htat drew her lips into a thin angry line, and her cheeks were blooming the palest shade of pink. Never had I seen such an expression of anger and love. With nothing better to do, I began to laugh, the pain in my neck surging despite my relief.

"You could have been killed!" Anna's cockney accent was becoming more and more prevalent as each syllable fell from her lips.

I brushed myself off, standing up and glancing over at Dumbledore, who's eyes were sparkling behind his spectacles.

"Anna, I have something very important to tell you." I said, shying away from her slightly. I didn't want to be around her, not because I didn't like her, obviously, but because I was afraid of another outburst from me…

"Like hell you do! This Italian bloke is prattling nonsense about you being a vampire!"

"I'd like to make certain Dante is okay before anything else…" I said, raising my hands to lower her voice.

Dumbledore put his hand on my shoulder. "Don't forget." he said sternly, unwrapping the heavy scarf around my neck.

Anna backed away in horror and Dumbledore's jaw set firmly.

"How in bloody hell did you get that!" Anna, having quite forgotten her manners, was now openly pointing at the wound in my neck.

"Like I said, I'll explain later. I just need…" I began quietly, glancing over at the sound of an opening door.

Madam Pomfrey was walking quickly towards us, her nurses uniform fluttering around her as she approached.

"What is all this commotion!" The older woman hissed, her eyes flashing dangerously. "First you bring me a half dead Italian, now he gets no rest?"

"My dear Integra is in need of some help."

Madam Pomfrey's jaw sat with scorn, looking at the wound in my neck. "I don't help Vampires."

"Vampire!" Anna hissed, her eyes flashing again as they fell on me.

"I just need blood, that's all…I'll be fine once I rest a little." I said dismissively. "there's a pretty good chunk missing, but…"

Anna was looking at me, my voice lost in my throat. This was not how I wanted to tell her. I had pictured it much different, and now…

"Madam Pomfrey, you are here to heal students of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Miss Black is in fact, a student of Hogwarts. You had no moral hesitation about healing Mr. Esposito, and he is, in fact, not a Hogwarts student…" Dumbledore said smoothly, helping me remove my coat. "It would be tragic if I had to re-examine your employment here…"

I could no longer look into Anna's eyes as Madam Pomfrey let out a sigh, leading me into the infirmary. I spotted Dante resting quietly on a bed in the far end of the wing, but Madam Pomfrey led me into her office, Anna and Dumbledore in tow.

Madam Pomfrey reluctantly fixed me up, supplying me with a packet of blood to suck on while she stitched up the gaping hole.

My eyes remained on the floor through the whole thing. I didn't want to look at Anna, I didn't want to think about our ensuing conversation, of the deep betrayal of friendship I was certain she felt…

"Are you okay?" Anna asked quietly after Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore had left to have a small talk about Dante.

Reluctantly, I raised my eyes, looking into her soft green ones. Her brow furrowed slightly, but I nodded, smiling fully to reveal my sharpened teeth. She didn't react.

"Quite. It's nothing I haven't endured before."

I felt her fist collide with my face again, my chair rocking backwards and tipping over on the floor. I stared up at the paneled ceiling in shock, just laying there, the blood packet crinkling in my hand, my coat askew.

"Who are you, really! What kind of bollocks have you been feeding me all long?"

I rolled over, sitting up.

"I haven't lied to you, at all. I wanted to protect you from the truth. I wanted to be your friend, and in case you haven't noticed, Vampires are not exactly welcome in the Wizarding world. I was afraid you wouldn't want to have anything to do with me if you knew."

Anna's eyebrow raised as I stood up, correcting the chair.

"Allow me to explain, please…I owe you that much, along with an apology."

"How long have you been a vampire?"

"Anna."

"How. Long. Have. You. Been. A. Vampire." Anna snarled tersely.

"Since 1943." I said softly, hanging my head. "it's not a new development…"

Anna stepped closer, her pale skin shining in the false light of madam Pomfrey's office. It was as if I saw her in a new perspective, each contour of her face now in vivid and beautiful detail, from the soft rose-pink tint of her lips to the pale brown freckles that faintly peppered her skin beneath her eyes.

There was rage and grace behind her eyes as she recovered from her anger, gathering control over herself once again.

"I have so many questions…I can't believe…my best friend is a vampire."

* * *

A/n: huh, hmm....I have nothing to say...


	9. Through The Looking Glass

The next few days were perhaps the most mentally trying experience I had encountered yet. I spent most of the time with Anna, or visiting Dante in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey made a few unkind remarks about having to send him to St. Mungo's, but Dumbledore put a kibosh on this before he left to speak with Fudge.

I myself was concerned. He was growing paler by the hour, and when he spoke, I noticed that his gums were reddening, and his teeth were growing sharper. I was worried about the violation of the Ministry's Cardinal rule of Vampires: do not make another vampire.

Dante was showing definite signs of vampirism…

On the other hand, I had never seen Anna look so happy, her face literally irradiant with glee, which made her look more beautiful than I had ever imagined. I have no doubt that Dante noticed, too. One hears rumors of Italian men being smooth talkers, and one would assume it is simply a stereotype. Unfortunately, Dante fit the stereotype a little too well, in my opinion.

Perhaps it was my growing apprehension about Dumbledore's return, or perhaps it was my feelings for Anna, or a mix of the two, but every time Dante and Anna came in contact with one another, I felt a growing irritation.

But I felt a guilt and a duty to not be angry with him. Had it not been for me, he would not be in such a dire situation. Granted, had it not been for me he probably would have been dead at the hands of his stepfather, but had it not been for me, he wouldn't be suffering as much as he quietly confessed to me one afternoon.

I was headed down to the hospital wing one evening when I spotted Anna, whom I'd given up looking for not moments before.

"Anna…"

She stopped, a slightly annoyed look crossing her face. "What?"

"I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment?"

"About what…?"

I pulled her aside as a gaggle of first years cut past, one of them casting us a weary look as they passed.

"It's about Dante…"

Her lips pursed together into a thin line and her eyes flashed. "You think I'm falling for his smooth tongue? I have two brothers, I know his game…"

"No." I said, dropping my voice lower and leaning closer as Snape swooped past, eyeing us wearily. I could smell her now more than ever, faintly of roses and old books with a hint of bittersweet blood…

"You know a great deal about vampires…"

Her eyes brightened considerably and her lips turned up at the corners in a smirk. "Not as much as you, probably."

"I don't know jack shit, except that I am one and how to kill them. What I'm asking you is how to prevent someone from becoming one." I leaned even closer unintentionally, placing my hand on the doorjamb beside her head as I dropped my voice even lower yet. She didn't shy away, simply looking directly into my eyes.

"Is Dante becoming a Vampire?"

"He's showing signs of vampirism…it could mean trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" I was oddly relieved to see a look of concern cross her features and I pulled back slightly.

"I don't want to say for now. It's best not to, but I need to know…"

She leaned forward, our faces just inches from one another's. My heart was pounding in my ears, like the toll of a churchyard bell, my head spinning as her lips moved. I could hardly concentrate on what she was saying, her breath was ghosting across my face as sweet as anything I had ever smelled…

"Integra, are you okay?"

I immediately broke from my trance, shivering slightly.

"Yeah, sorry…I'm just really…"

"Really what?"

"Worried." I finished lamely, stepping back. I suddenly felt awkward as I stood there looking at Anna, her fair hair shining in the watery sunlight.

"Well, don't worry, I we can counter this." She said with an excited shiver, looking over her shoulder as she did so. "But I need to know the parameters of my work. You know what will work and what won't, I assume."

I heard a noise in the hallway close by and looked up as Anna passed me. Professor McGonagall was standing sternly, silhouetted against the brilliant January sunset.  
"Miss Black, Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office."

XxX

When I reached Professor Dumbledore's office, I was quite bewildered to discover he was nowhere to be seen, sensed, or smelt. On the table sat a pensive, radiating a liquid silver light from within it's stone basin, the old man's wand laying beside it. I didn't dare get any closer, or pry into his private thoughts, for surely he was close by.

But I am unfortunately curious by nature, and due to the fact that I could not smell him, nor could I sense his presence close by, I leaned in over the bowl, my black hair swooping past my shoulders and dropping into the silvery white liquid.

I felt a yank forward, my own mother's scolding voice echoing in my ears, reaching from the past and chastising me for being so impulsive as she had so often in my youth. The roots that held my hair fast to my head were aching dully as I was drawn into the stifling liquid. I felt like I was going to suffocate as the thoughts went over my head, submersing my shoulders as I went deeper until I was swallowed up entirely in Dumbledore's thoughts.

I fell farther and farther in, like Alice through the proverbial looking glass, pulled by my long hair with invisible hands as I landed into the water-colored world of Dumbledore's pensive.

It took me a second to gather my thoughts as I landed hard on a cobbled street, darkness all around me. I could see the tops of high buildings, the glow of oil lamps through lace curtains, the scent of decay reaching my nose. In the shadows, I could make out the form of a man with red hair, cloaked in a deep, deep blue, watching the empty street wearily.

I looked at him blankly, his ice-blue eyes going right through me over his long, broken nose. He was young, in his mid to late twenties, his face taking on an uncharacteristically stern expression in his memory.

Behind him, I made out a pair of eyes glowing crimson, the shadow of a true monster looming benignly in the deepest shadows of the alleyway.

A low, hissing sound filled the air, sending chills up my spine. I could smell something drawing closer, ever closer, appearing in the fog that permeated these London streets. The feeling was overwhelming, like I was slowly going insane, and I realized that this was what Dumbledore had felt on that dark night as he crouched there in the shadows.

I walked calmly over to a stoop nearby, my skin prickling with goose pimples as I sat down in a horribly calm manner. These were Dumbledore's memories, no harm would come to me…

I heard a soft whistling song on the putrid breeze, the crimson eyes in the alley behind Dumbledore flashing with glee as the grim song rang out in a heavy accent.

"Down among the dead men,  
Down among the dead men let him lie."

"Hush." Dumbledore's voice came out as softer than I had ever heard it, untouched by age. I could see his wand in the dim lights of the foggy street and I started slightly as I saw movement, a man drawing ever-near through the dim lights.

I sat up straight as the figure materialized in the darkness, Dumbledore stepping out to confront it. I saw the darkness around him, threatening to swallow up the street.

I knew what this was immediately, as did the young blond man whom Dumbledore was confronting.

"Gillert! The time for this nonsense ends now!"

Laughter rang out, the other young man's wand raised in the air as the scene flickered slightly.

"Do you really think you can stop me, Albus?" The young man laughed. I stood up, clutching the wrought-iron railing for support as I watched the ensuing duel play out. I couldn't help but think that there was something about this 'Gillert' that made me uncomfortable, perhaps it was his ear-to ear grin as he battled Dumbledore, perhaps it was the eerie familiarity in the man's voice as he spoke poisonously sweet words to Dumbledore, who refused to raise a hand against the other young man.

There was blood, everywhere, all belonging to Dumbledore. I couldn't help but feel concerned, though I knew that one or both of the young men would survive. I felt like I should do something to defend Dumbledore, who was bleeding heavily, but I knew my hands were tied, so I just leaned my hea don my hand and watched.

"How many?" Dumbledore shouted, his vice rising to a temper I had never heard before. "How many more women must die at your hand, Gillert?"

"As many as I need to better the world!" Gillert laughed, raising his wand and casting a well-aimed hex on Dumbledore, who stumbled forward, his tattered robes clinging to his lithe young form. Gillert's strong hand shot out, gripping Dumbledore's robes and pulling them so close that their faces nearly met.

"Do you remember our dream, Albus? Do you remember?"

I blinked, lifting my head up in disbelief of the scene that was playing out before me. I felt a white-hot shock run though my veins as Gillert kissed Dumbledore, who closed his eyes, a sad expression crossing his face. "We can have that again, you and I, together…just come with me…." Gillert's voice was now soft and pleading, persuasive as he spoke against the other young man's lips.

Dumbledore's eyes opened and he looked up at the other man. "No."

Gillert threw Dumbledore back against the cobbles, raising his wand. "Then you'll have to die!"

I saw a dark shape appear between them, a cloud of bats solidifying between the duelists.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." I recognized the voice immediately, rising to my feet on the stoop as The Count appeared, a cruel, almost evil smile crossing his features. I didn't recognize his face; he was clean-shaven, appearing quite young, though he retained his long, shaggy hair and amber-red eyes. He was dressed like a Victorian gentleman, as he did every once in a while when I knew him, clad in a Long black riding coat with the collar turned up, polished black boots up to the thigh, a bunch of lace gathered at his chin…

"Count Dracula…" I heard Gillert laugh with positive glee. "so the great Albus Dumbledore called in his great lapdog to nip at my heels! This is rich! I must inquire…how is Mrs. Harker? I am certain that she would look oh-so-lovely with her ears clipped like Miss. Eddowes, don't you think?"

I had never, in my entire experience with him, seen the expression The Count made upon hearing this. Pure hatred, his face contorted unlike anything I had seen before.

"You bastard! Don't touch her!"

The barrage that followed was a sight to behold, blood flying freely in all directions as Gillert let out a coughing laugh.

"Stop! Stop, I beg of you! Don't kill him!" Dumbledore's voice was barely audible above the fracas. "There must be another way!"

The Count let go of Gillert's throat, dropping him to the ground without mercy.

"You're a damned fool, Albus…a damned fool."

The Count made an angry sound, moving into an attack position, but Dumbledore called for him to stop as Gillert vanished with a telltale 'pop'.

There was an aura of relief as the Count turned, kneeling before Dumbledore and bowing his head in an almost penitent gesture.

"Forgive me, my master…"

The vision vanished, and I was whisked erratically through a series of snippets that seemed petty, complete with irregular and non-sequential time skips, a blur of voices as they passed, thoughts detailing Albus' relationship with Gillert, his relationship with the Count. Perhaps I was a little upset, for multiple reasons, so I didn't pay the attention I should have, my thoughts on Mrs. Harker and the Count's apparent 'subservience' to Dumbledore. It bothered me greatly, to say the least…

But there was some comfort in knowing a little more about Dumbledore, particularly in reguard to Gillert, something that we shared, and knowing that I was not alone.  
I found myself again, standing in an office filled with whirring gadgets and various other otherwise obscure curios, I knew this office. It had been Dumbledore's in the 1940's. I spotted the tea set that we used to have tea out of, the well-loved books sitting at their usual odd angles in towering piles.

"Ah, where were we…?"

I looked down at the red chintz chair that I used to sit in, taking a step back at the sight of the Count, once more looking as if he were in his mid-forties, like a well-kempt medieval warrior, armor and all. He sat with his usual air of bored regality, his knees crossed and his cheek resting on his lightly closed fist. So much like Anna…

"The girl…the Japanese one…" He muttered, swirling a wine-glass in his hand and casually looking up at Dumbledore.

"Yes…I'm concerned about her…" Dumbledore said, resting his chin in his hands and looking squarely at the Count. "Vlad, you have witnessed the utmost discrimination throughout the years…you must empathize with her to some degree, even if she is Living."

"I always make time for beautiful women." He said with a sly smile, raising his glass to his lips. "Empathy or not."

I felt deep embarrassment, shaking my head as the ridiculousness of it all. I was most certainly not considered beautiful, not in 1943, anyway, and definitely not by the English.

There was a spark of amusement in Dumbledore's eyes. "You haven't changed a bit…So you will keep an eye on her? I certainly cannot do it alone."

The count's tone suddenly changed to one of utmost seriousness. "Master, you must make up your mind. I can either trail Grindelwald or I can trail the Japanese girl. I cannot be two places at once…"

Dumbledore nodded, thinking for what felt like an eternity before he spoke again.

"As much as I hate to say this, Grindlewald is more important at the moment. I'll keep an eye on Integra here, but you come back to me immediately when Gillert makes any kind of major move…"

The Count nodded, standing up. "We'll meet at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, I presume?"

Dumbledore stood as well, shaking the counts hand. The count smiled serenely.

"Integra…"

I felt the world spin again, and in all my awkward embarrassment, I realized where I was, attempting to mentally and physically pull myself out of Dumbledore's mind before I was caught. I managed to emerge on top of Dumbledore's desk, nearly upsetting the pensive as I scrambled to get down, coming close to falling on my face in the process.

I felt upset, mentally an emotionally torn apart as I stood, habitually brushing my grey jumper off and smoothing my pleats, sitting down in the chair opposite of Dumbledore's desk. I could smell him coming closer, faintly at first until I watched him emerge form the pensive with catlike grace.

I leaned on my elbow, forcing a smile through clenched teeth. Dumbledore smoothed his robes, looking at me from over the top of his spectacles.

"Ah, Integra, forgive me, I wasn't expecting you so soon…I was just talking a walk down memory lane…"

"No worries…It gave me some time to…gather my own memories as well." I said carefully, sitting up straighter and looking at him. I wanted to question him, and by the look he gave me, I expected that he knew about my adventure in 'wonderland', and guessed my thoughts.

He sat down and said nothing, clearly still thinking deeply. I had only once before seen such a look of deep sorrow on his face, and it was just moments ago inside the pensive when the Count had fought Gillert.

"You seem troubled." I said softly.

"As do we all, my dear…" Dumbledore replied, taking a deep breath and exhaling. "The Ministry…they say that they do not hold you responsible for the attack. There is an inquiry to Dante's disappearance, and he will eventually have to speak with Fudge when he is feeling better. This whole thing is an international nightmare. The Italian Minister, De Lombardi, is under investigation now."

My fingers curled around the armrests of the chair. "He did try to murder his stepson…the least they could do for Dante is give him diplomatic immunity or something…"

Dumbledore nodded, leaning back and sighing. "It looks as though Dante is going to have to go through the same procedures as anyone else entering the U.K. Needless to say, The Ministry is failing us yet again." He muttered softly, eying an empty panting that hung on the wall in the corner. "They've gone so far as to cut off the blood supply to the castle…I think they're trying to drive you into attacking. I have reason to believe you are being set up. I think they want an excuse to execute you."

I looked it him, pressing my lips together, my sharpened teeth digging into the flesh of my mouth.

"Well, I have already done so, or in case you haven't noticed, Mr. Esposito's ribcage was almost torn out by me."

"Don't exaggerate, Integra!" Dumbledore said with a sudden sternness. "I know you attacked Dante. The regret is understandable, but…"

"I turned on him like a dog." I said softly, my black bangs obscuring my eyes, my voice falling into a flat tone that hid my anger and frustration. "I mindlessly turned at the scent of blood and attacked a comrade like an animal. I didn't even know what I was doing until it was almost too late…"

Dumbledore looked at me, a slight degree of hesitation in his eyes. "I understand what you are going through, but now is not the time for self-condemnation. You must believe you're innocent, because if you don't, they won't."

"Don't sugar coat it, Albus. It's not that simple and we both know it."

A silence fell on the office, our eyes locking. Dumbledore looked away, smiling slightly in an odd, sad sort of way.

"This is an ugly situation, Integra, and it will get uglier if you don't play the game correctly. Can you handle the steps that need to be taken?"

"I believe so. There is no point in becoming so impassioned over something you can't control."

Dumbledore nodded. "You shouldn't sugar coat it, as well Integra. You are afraid, as am I, but you can control this."

I sighed. "I guess we'll take it as it comes, then. However, I am concerned about Dante."

"Yes, his impending vampirism…I noted that when you brought him in. I have contacted someone who may be able to help…"

"As have I, though I doubt her resources are as broad."

Dumbledore looked at me sternly. "I don't advise you involve Miss Le Croux in this. It will end badly."

I nodded solemnly. "Unfortunately, the moment she elected to sit down beside me she became involved. The best I can do now is keep her informed and protect her the best I can from here on. You have told me many times before that 'Knowledge is the ultimate power', and Anna is uncannily sharp. I think that if she were to walk down this path, she could be greater then Abraham Van Helsing."

"I think you are right, but could you lead her down that dark path? Could your heart bear it?"

I looked at him with as much simple honesty as I could muster, my crimson eyes meeting his over the shining pensive light.

"For Anna, I would endure anything."

XxX

* * *

A/n: I feel bad that I haven't been working on anything story-wise lately. I love how life comes at you all at once, then kind of backs off for a bit, then comes at you again...


	10. Pieces of the Puzzle

I felt excessively tired that night as I roamed the castle grounds, stretching my great black wings. The cold winter air gave me a chance to think, to clear my head of the distraction of all the young, virgin blood inside the castle.

I sat upon the wrought iron battlement, crouching between the devastatingly tall spires as I stared back at Hogwarts, it's gleaming windows shining like jewels in the magnificent Gothic structure. It felt as if I were in one of the elaborate tales the count used to weave, of Impalers from Wallachia and great wars, of lost love and revenge, sorrow and grieving, and the splendor of life followed by the beauty of death.

It felt as if I were in another world, corrupt and beautiful.

My conversation with Dumbledore weighed heavily on my mind, as did what I saw in the pensive. It raised innumerable questions in my mind, few of which had answers. The few answers I was able to deduce only raised more questions, both deep and superficial.

I wondered about Dumbledore, his relationship with Gillert Gindlewald, and his relationship with the Count. Something seemed off. I had never before in my life seen the Count bow before anyone, I had never before in my life head him be subservient to anyone…but still, he bowed before Dumbledore, he had called him 'Master'…

I stretched my wings in the cold night air, ice crystals crusting my wiry black hair as it fell over my shoulders, wrapping loosely around the wrought-iron fence below my feet. In the forest behind me I could smell the animals moving around, the wolves of the forest sniffing just beyond the tree line, and beyond that, the soft, black presence that I had felt when I had arrived with Dante.

I turned my back to the castle, looking into the trees with a smile. This was my hunting ground now.

Animal blood is never as satisfying as human, and hardly the healthiest option. For a human, it would be like taking vitamins rather than ingesting tangible food, but blood is blood, and in a tight situation, it was all I had. It would keep me alive.

I finished hunting, no closer to enlightenment than when I started, but feeling considerably more powerful now that wolf-blood coursed through my veins. I took a deep 'breath', stretching my stiff muscles as I stood in the knee deep snow, stained crimson beneath me. I heard a sniffing sound and turned, looking into the face of a great, grey beast with a noble face and sun-colored eyes.

It was not afraid, despite the wolf blood staining my hands crimson, it's comrades laying dead around me in the clearing. It approached me slowly, it's muscles rippling beneath it's shaggy dark grey fur. This was not an English wolf, it's stature considerably greater than the ones I had killed, and it was old. Very old.

The fur on it's muzzle was graying around it's whiskers, it's once grand, thick fur looking shaggy and patchy, yet there was an unspeakable, indescribable dignity to this creature despite it's condition. It was a noble creature, to be respected and feared.

It's eyes never moved from mine as it circled me, as if appraising me with it's wise, amber eyes. It's shoulders dropped and it snarled before slinking away, it's tail vanishing into the slight mist that was starting to cling to the trees. I arched my back, a deep laugh erupting from my mouth. I didn't feel timid and shy anymore, I didn't feel the need to be subservient to anyone. I would free myself from the chains that bound me, and I would find the answers I needed.

I took to the sky, turning to the castle and swooping around to the infirmary, it's large windows cutting large squares of light in the sky. I landed on the sill, peering in. I could see Anna sitting beside Dante's bed, talking to him, a black-bound book balanced on her knee as her hands moved over his chest. I could smell garlic faintly, the stench repulsive as it wafted towards me.

I rapped sharply on the glass panel with one graying fist, gaining Anna's attention. She dropped the book in shock standing up and staring at me. I waved tentatively, motioning for her to open the window.

Upon recognition, she opened the window. I struggled past the panel, squeezing my wings in as tight as physically possible and landing with a soft 'thump' on the pads of my feet.

"Integra…?"

"This, Anna, is a vampire's true form…" I said, stretching my rumpled wings. Anna flinched slightly as the flesh-covered appendage narrowly missed her head. "How are you doing? How's Dante?"

"I knew that vampires could shape shift but…" She ran a soft hand along the cartilage of the wing, her fingers dancing over the small hooked nodule a the end. "What's your wing span?"

I folded my wings against my back. "It's a little under six meters…"

She made an impressed sound, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. I had never shown anyone my vampire form in such a casual situation, certain that anyone who saw it would be afraid or repulsed, but Anna wasn't phased at all.

"Dante is having some problems with the methods I'm using." Anna said quietly, her attention falling back to her charge as we stepped towards him. "I managed to find a crucifix in Hogsmead yesterday, and the garlic seems to be making him sick, though it seems as though his teeth aren't as sharp as they used to be…"

I rounded the edge of his bed, getting full view, but staying a decent distance away form him.

"The garlic is enough to keep me away…that's horrible!" I gasped, covering my nose with my hand. Dante looked sick, his cheeks sunken and his hands horribly knobbed despite his young age.

"Ah, Integra…I am glad you came!" Dante said, sitting up slightly. He seemed unnaturally weak, and his dark eyes were barely open.

"How are you feeling, Dante, answer me truthfully."

"I'd feel better if you came closer." He said, forcing a smile. "The only thing better for a man than one beautiful woman is two."

"Enough of the 'beautiful women' bollocks, I can't come closer. The garlic is getting to me…" I said softly, sitting down on the railing of the bed across form his. "How do you feel."

"Ah, I feel terrible, signorina! This garlic and…" He motioned to the rosary around his neck.

I was quite shocked to see him cross himself after saying this, but I nodded nonetheless, exchanging glances with Anna, who had retrieved the black-bound book from the place it had fallen.

"Do you feel nauseous, Dante?"

"Si, Integra, I feel terrible!"

"He hasn't been able to eat solid food, either…" Anna said quietly, looking at me with a blank expression. I looked down at my bare feet.

"Is that so?"

Anna nodded and my shoulders fell, turing back to Dante. "Have you felt any pain?"

"Si, it's all over my veins…like fire…"

"If you still feel pain then it's a good sign." I looked at Anna, and she nodded.

"You should probably get some rest. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be in to check on you in a few minutes." Anna said, clutching her book to her stomach.

"I'll take my leave, Dante. Good night." I said with a slight nod, standing up and turning back to the window. Anna grabbed my hand before I could leave.

"Meet me in the Library in one hour."

I nodded, looking deep into her eyes with a smile. "You read my mind."

XxX

The Library was completely dark when I opened the door, back in my 'human' form and clothed in a thick sweater.

The moon filtered in through the plate glass windows, casting an eerie light across the dusty books and abandoned quills. I found a table, draping my book bag across the back of the chair and turning back to the books. Anna was late, but I wasn't particularly offended. She had a way of knowing things about me, a way of knowing when I was in turmoil and needed alone time.

My fingertips moved along the books, ever-searching for answers. I smelled Anna's scent coming closer, the door opening quietly and shutting behind her.  
"Integra, are you here?"

"Yes, I'm back here." I called. I was almost to the restricted section, staring at the shelf across from it; the Vampire section. I felt her coming closer, rounding the shelf at the end and leaning against the barrier of the restricted section.

"What do you make of Dante?"

"He's a flapper." I said simply, reaching up and grabbing a book that seemed relevant to my research. "What do you think?"

"Be serious, Integra." Anna said, grabbing another book from the shelf and looking down at it. "I'm worried about him."

"I am, too…to be honest." I said, looking plainly at her. There was something in that room that night, a cold chill like an adrenaline rush, the same feeling that one has when they fall in love.

"I saw… Madame Pomfrey showed me his injury…I saw what you did."

"It's terrible, isn't it?" I said quietly, looking down at the book in my hands. "What I did to him…"

"How did it happen, honestly?" She asked, her hair the color of molten silver in the pale moonlight as she led me along the isles of shelves back to the table.

"I came across someone in the cemetery in Cheddar, someone I thought I couldn't trust. I was going to shoot him but Dante intervened. I accidentally shot him, and when I smelled the blood…"

"You had an automatic reaction to the scent of blood, is that what you are saying?" Anna asked plainly, looking at me from over the top of her glasses.

"I turned on my friend like an animal."

Anna sat down in silence, opening the book in her hands. I remained standing.

"Yeah, you did." Anna said with a poisonous bluntness. "But there's something more to this than that."

"What are you saying?"

"Dante has scars on his neck. I don't know of you'd seen them or not. I saw something very similar to it on your neck…and I know it doesn't come with being a Vampire, but it may come from one."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I want the whole story. I want to know everything that happened." She said, reaching into her backpack and handing me a notebook and a muggle pen. "Write it down, all of it. I think he was bitten by a Vampire long before you came in."

"His mother was a Vampire…" I said, taking the pen and paper from her. "It's possible, but…I'm getting confused…that is too complicated."

Anna sighed, giving me an almost patronizing look.

"What I'm saying is that you might not be the one responsible for Dante becoming a vampire. I think he was bitten by a vampire, then you were bitten by a vampire again…and that's what lead you to attack him."

"What?" I asked, my brain buzzing dully.

"When a vampire drinks the blood of another vampire, they are infected with the Methuselah's Thirst, and go after the blood of other vampires, particularly ones that are of the same race." She passed the book to me, pointing at the entry she had been reading. "You were bitten by a vampire, hence the gash in your neck. Dante was already showing mild signs of vampirism when you guys left Italy, hence the hole in his hand. It was infected with Holy Water, and eating away at his hand. It would explain why you attacked him in the cemetery. You wanted his blood, because regular blood no longer satisfied you."

My mind was reeling from all the information she was feeding me.

"But he would be a Sanguarian, not a Nosferatu. His mother was a Sanguarian."

"That's what troubles me. It would mean that there's another Nosferatu that infected him." she said, leaning back thoughtfully, pulling a second notebook out of her book bag. "But I don't fully understand how Vampire lineages work."

I looked up at her from the notebook she'd handed me, my handwriting already having filled up two pages.

"I wish this was all covered in Dracula, but since it was written from the perspectives of the Harkers and company…" She said leaning back in her chair.

"The Harkers?" I said suddenly, dropping the pen on the floor. "What is with 'Dracula'? How do you know about him?"

Anna looked startled. "Have you never read Bram Stoker's 'Dracula'?"

I stared at her blankly, the blood in my veins quickening. "No, I haven't…"

Anna rummaged through her pack, a frown crossing her features.

"Oh, I left it with Dante…but Integra, seriously, what is your relation to Dracula? You are Nosferatu, according to this book, you fall into that species. Dracula was also a Nosferatu…"

"Vlad Dracula, Count of Wallachia was my Master. He's the one that turned me into a vampire. He's the one that taught me everything I know about being a vampire."  
"I hope you aren't joking." Anna said dully, her green eyes flashing softly in the moonlight.

"I'm not…I can take you to his tomb in Hogsmead."

Anna was quiet.

"Dracula was work of fiction." she said patiently, as if explaining it to a very stupid child.

"He was not…he was killed by You-Know-Who's followers years ago…he fought to protect the Living…I didn't know about this 'Harker' nonsense until recently."

"Dracula had mistresses back in Romania that were killed by Jonathan Harker, Mina's husband. Dracula went after Mina to avenge them…"

"I don't know, what to believe anymore. I had been told that his brides were killed, and…" I stopped, anger surging through my veins. "Oh, damn it all!" I slammed my hands down on the table, the wood cracking slightly. "He never told me of Mina Harker, he told me of his 'lost' loves back in Wallachia, that some fuck ass had murdered them, he told me of Abraham Van Hellsing, the famed vampire hunter, but nothing of the Harkers. But I know…damn it all!"

My fingers hooked under the bottom of the table and I overturned it with a mighty crash, splintering the oak with one flick of my wrist. Papers flew everywhere and I fisted my hands in my hair as she looked on.

Anna looked nonplussed, and said nothing to voice her thoughts. An awkward silence befell the darkened library, dust particles and parchment drifting slowly downward through the wintry moonlight like snowflakes. I hadn't let my mouth fly like that in many years.

"Lets just…we need to focus on Dante…" Anna said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, though her eyes had taken on a slight hardness in the corners.

"Yeah. Let's get on it." I snapped, correcting the table and picking up the papers. I felt angry and betrayed, perhaps blaming Anna slightly for this new revelation. I was also embarrassed at my outburst, and Anna seemed a little more distant afterwards.

But at the end of the night, Anna was still Anna, and we had forgiven all 'transgressions', real or imagined.

XxX

* * *

A/n: I've had a lot of time to work on this lately. It's kind if nice but it gets dull after a while. I just cant seem to find the inspiration to pick my other stories back up :/


	11. Dr Van der Zanden

XxX

Sneaking around Hogwarts is surprisingly easy, providing you are careful and don't wake up the paintings or bump into the ghosts. As for avoiding the professors, having a vampire around is dead handy.

Anna and I found ourselves running about the castle at night, hand-in-hand, trying to escape the clutches of the professors. At her age, I could understand the sense of adventure, but at my age it was just undignified.

But it was fun, nonetheless. I was unspeakably thankful for her camaraderie, and for Dante's.

Dante seemed to be stable, though he looked weak and frail, he was staying alive, his vitals were good, and he was up to flirting with whatever young girl came into the hospital wing, even Madam Pomfrey on occasion.

Anna, Dante, and I found ourselves talking quietly about all of the puzzle pieces we had been shown. He assured us that his mother had not bitten him, because up until three days before I had arrived in Italy, he had been in Egypt on a diplomatic visit, and when he came back, she was already a vampire and imprisoned by the Italians.

"So the vampire must have bitten you in Egypt?" Anna asked, pulling the collar of his shirt down and inspecting the bite as if expecting it would announce that it was made by an Egyptian vampire.

"I'm not recalling the bite." Dante said, glancing nervously over at the side table. "Is it something you would recall, Integra?"

I looked at him from the end of the bed, the garlic still stoutly in place on the table beside him.

"Not always. Some vampires put their victims to sleep before they drink blood, but few are that subtle about it. It varies depending on vampire and situation, but were rarely leave people alive. Were you tired at all? Beyond the usual?"

"The heat in Egypt made me tired." Dante confessed, reaching discreetly over to the bedside table. I recognized the tube of salve I had brought him while in France and smiled at him. He didn't meet my eyes, simply blushing profusely.

Anna eyed him wearily, her glasses flashing ominously as she looked him up and down.

"Dante, what's that?" She asked suddenly, making a grab for the tube.

"It's nothing." He tried to hide it, but Anna's reflexes were surprisingly fast. It wasn't that she grabbed the tube from him, it's that she rapped sharply on his knuckles, causing him to let go of the tube in pain. I stared at them, curious to how this would play out.

Dante's cheeks were a deep crimson by now.

"Signorina Annabelle, please! Signorina Integra, stop her!"

"What's so important…" Anna muttered, turning the small tube in her hands.

"It's antibacterial salve I got for him when we were in France." I said, leaning on my elbow and watching the two. I couldn't help but be amused by Anna's petty, yet monstrous curiosity, and my own curiously was fueled by Dante's bizarre level of shame over the tube.

A sudden thought regarding my limited French struck me, and Anna made a disgusted sound, confirming my fears.

"It's not anti-bacterial salve, it's intimate oil!" Anna said in perfect horror, casting the tube away as if it were on fire.

"Intimate oil?" I had never heard of such a thing until now, but Dante's face held an expression between sheepishness and mortification.

"It's sexual lubricant." Dante muttered solemnly, looking at my clueless expression. "Integra 'got it for my hand'." He lifted his scarred hand, a tone of sheepish amusement underlying his heavy accent.

Anna erupted in a roar of laughter I had never experienced before, her green eyes positively alight with mirth. I was beyond embarrassed and bewildered, simply shaking my head at the lot of them.

"You knew! And you didn't tell me?" I asked, the blood in my veins coursing a little faster than it should have.

"You were trying very hard, I did not want to offend you!" Dante protested, looking helplessly from Anna to me and back again. I was mortified, and stood up, brushing my skirt off in indignation.

"Integra, it's funny, really it is!" Anna said, her eyes tearing up with laughter. "Don't leave."

I smiled, shaking my head. "That's really embarrassing."

XxX

Dante and I were still embarrassed several days later. I visited him whenever I had a break in my classes, taking turns with Anna in keeping an eye on him. I couldn't get close, the garlic making me nauseous, but Anna and Madam Pomfrey kept a close eye on him. Dumbledore's 'expert' sent a message that he would be delayed due to weather, and sent instructions ahead to tell us what to do. I was anxious to meet him, but Anna was excited.

I still felt a certain amount of resentment towards the Count due to what Anna had inadvertently revealed, but I hid it all. I had to maintain my facade, and brace myself for whatever came; now was not the time to be weak.

The Saturday following Anna and I's conversation in the library, we went down to Hogsmead to look for more supplies. Anna had adopted the joke that if I didn't like it, it would probably work, which lead us to nearly being permanently kicked out of the apothecary. But never had I laughed so hard in all my years, and I am certain that Anna hadn't, either. Childish behavior as it was, it was a bit of a relief to us both.

I took her into the cemetery, but we never got into the mausoleum, for the Ministry had closed it off with a notice of 'Historical Preservation', and if anyone entered, authorities would be notified. Anna seemed unimpressed, and I was quite embarrassed and angry. Vampires, as the dead, have no rights to property, but oftentimes we leave things such a mausoleums, any wealth we accumulate, and theoretical 'territories' to those we create, in the event of our deaths. It didn't legally mean the mausoleum was mine, but it did mean I felt wronged, and theoretically, it was mine.

Our spirits somewhat dampened, we set back towards the castle, the Dementors scattering away from me like great black ghosts, though a few lingered to 'eye' Anna before disappearing.

Upon our early return to the castle, we found a middle-aged man clad in a light brown leather jacket leaning over Dante's bed.

"What are you doing! Stop!" Anna yelled, thrusting her bag into my arms and launching herself across the hospital wing, pushing the man out of the way. I heard a sword being drawn and immediately was between them, my hand closed tightly around the man's wrists, suspending him mid-movement.

"Don't lay a hand on her. We're all on the same side, there is no need fo-" I felt his boot collide with my stomach, sending me sprawling across the flagstone floor.  
"Anna, get down!" I yelled, shifting my weight and digging my fingernails into the floor, the flagstone ripping at my skin and causing stale blood to smear across the gray stones as I fell into a crouching position.

"Ah, Integra Bellatrix Wilhelmina Black. We meet again."

"I'm sorry, I don't recall ever making your acquaintance." I said, standing up and drawing my hand to my chest, pressing my fingertip to my black jumper to stop the blood, mist curling from my fingertips as I did so. "But I strongly suggest you lay down your sword so that we may handle this situation in a civilized manner."  
"There are no civilized manners for godless monsters such as yourself." He lunged at me, a gold pendant slipping from the folds of his shirt. I swung out of the way as his sword nicked the edge of my jumper, recognition hitting me. Anna and Dante were screaming for us to stop, their cries falling unheeded.

"Stop this nonsense, Illuminati." I continued to dodge his thrusts, backing the fight away from Anna and Dante as best as I could. " I only seek to protect my comrades."  
He reached into his pocket, drawing out several small wafers and flinging them at me like throwing weapons.

I nearly stopped at the randomness of this. Why was he now throwing food? It was about all I could do to keep from laughing until one of the wafers hit my skin. A searing pan shot though my arm, leaving blistered, bloody skin in it's wake. I let out a roar unlike any other, drawing my gun faster than I had ever done before. HE was attacking ME and MY clan on MY grounds. It was simply unforgivable.

"ENOUGH!"

Both the Illuminati and I froze, the angry tone of a normally gentle voice falling upon us like a tidal wave.

Professor Dumbledore had opened the door just inches away from me, directly where I had been leading the fight. His deep blue robes were touching my shoulders as he cut past me.

"Put your gun away, Integra."

My cheeks blushed with anger at being the one to be rebuked, but I obediently put my gun away, rubbing the sore spot on my arm as I cast the Illuminati a scathing look, which was matched only by Anna's look of sheer hatred.

"Dr. Augustijn Van der Zanden. Dr. Van Helsingr couldn't make it due to the sudden ill turn of the weather."

"Ah, I am sorry to hear that, I am Professor Albus Perceval Dumbledore." Dumbledore said with a shallow yet solemn bow. "And this fine example of a vampire is my associate, Integra Black, whom I am now quite certain you have met. That young lady couching over there is Miss. Annabelle Le Croux, and the gentleman is Signor Dante Esposito."

"Miss Le Croux, Signor Esposito, a pleasure." The man said with a nod. "And Master Dumbledore, a great honor."

I watched the scene play out, my stomach lurching slightly. It was understandable that Dr. Van der Zanden felt the way he did, due to his status as one of the Illuminati, however, that did not mean I was to trust him at any point. Especially if Dante was as advanced of a vampire as Anna and I feared.

Anna stood, her hand firmly planted on Dante's slender shoulder. I felt a presence beyond the castle walls that made me shiver. It felt like the Wolf at first, but it felt darker, heavier than that, like a wet blanket had been draped over me.

XxX

* * *

A/n: Trying to get back into the swing of writing. I'm still sort of kicking around the next chapter, there's a scene in it that doesn't quite sit right with me, so I may need to do some major editing. Sorry for the long periods of no updates. I guess patience is a virtue :)

Edit: I edited the typos. Hopefully I got them all :P special thanks to Dalrynn for alerting me to them!


	12. A Dream of A Nightmare

I had never expected the toll Dr. Van der Zanden's stay would take so much out of Anna and I, though Dante looked considerably better and was actually eating solid food by the end of the week.

Anna seemed a bit embarrassed that her brass-tacks effort hadn't been terribly effective, but amid the shouts of rage and verbal assaults towards me, the Doctor kindly thanked her for her efforts and admitted that, had it not been for her, Dante would be 'a damned, cursed monster'.

I was somewhat relieved, and rather proud of her, and myself for putting her up to it. In retrospect, I understood why I had defended Dante and Anna from Dr. Van der Zanden so fiercely; they really, truly were now a part of my family, my clan, and I loved them accordingly.

However, Dr. Van der Zanden and I waged a constant and very vocal war. I had lost all traces of patience with him long ago, and was proud and foolish enough to not back down. He seemed to get great joy out of baiting me, and it was wearing me out, emotionally and physically, and obviously nibbling at Anna's already volatile personality. I found myself fully worn-out at the end of each day, not physically as much as emotionally, though the lack of human blood was a contributing factor to my increasingly ill health.

Vampires, like the Living, do have dreams when they sleep, in fact, our slumber is not too much unlike the sleep of the Living, save for the fact that we don't move when we sleep, nor do we, thankfully, snore.

My dreams were restless and erratic, causing distress when I awoke. I always felt a darkness in them that I could only identify as the Count. It seemed to be fleeing from me, yet still clinging just beyond my reach at times, but at other times the darkness was demonic and pursuant, and I was running, risking being consumed by it.  
Oftentimes I requested, demanded, or begged for answers, he always evaded me. But now, weaving in and out of my dreams were a menagerie of characters that bore the faces of my friends and comrades, but not their names.

One night, not two weeks after Dr. Van der Zanden's arrival, I had a dream, so vivid it was as if I were awake.

Unlike most dreams, everything was tangible: I could taste food, feel trivial pain, touch gently, feel the warmth of someone's hand. It was as if I was alive again. I found myself riding horseback over the pass of a vast mountain rage draped in deep green with jagged, grey rocks cutting out of the fertile ground, seeming to clamor over one another to reach the endless sky. The weather was growing ill fast, despite the time of year, a flew snowflakes blowing past in the high mountain air. There were trees all around me as myself and countless others descended into a deep sweeping valley, a large, gothic castle jutting up from the valley floor, barely visible among the trees.

Relief spread through me as we drew nearer to the castle compound; I was coming home.

But something was wrong; There was no one to meet us.

I spurred my horse ahead of my men, a loud, masculine shout emanating from my mouth as I charged forward on the road, coming into a broad, smooth green that composed the castle lawn. Ahead of me were multiple large, open pits pocking the breathtaking landscape, smoke curling skyward from the gaping holes.  
The wind was strong and cold as I stared down into one of the ghastly pits. The scent of blood curled around me as it mingled with the growing scent of rain above the smell of the smoldering bodies.

It was getting dark fast, black rain clouds ripping across the sky. I stepped closer to the pit, my stomach lurching as I looked down inside, my scarlet wool cloak billowing around me in the humid breeze.

The pit was full of bodies, brimming with the buzzing of flies and the putrid stench of decay. I felt rage and anger as I came closer, recognizing the putrefying body impaled on the pike beside it.

_Father…_

I knew by now this wasn't just a dream, and it wasn't _my_ dream: the man on the pike: while he had betrayed me at one point or another, he was my father…

Panic set in, and I looked back, my troops scant in comparison to the heaped dead.

A heavy rain began to fall and one of the men approached, addressing me in a rustically lyrical foreign tongue as the rains saturated my clothing, running off of my heavy armor.

I heard the word 'brother' and came running as some of my men uncovered a new grave.

Inside lay a man but a few years older than myself, a metal plate embedded where his eyes should be, burned onto his flesh until it held fast. Dried blood and dirt collected on his pale face; his lips softly tinted blue.

I felt my chest heave and I fell to my knees. My brother was dead, blinded and buried alive.

As tears of anger and sadness filled my eyes and I pounded a fist into the ground, the grass indenting beneath my armored fist.

Godless monsters, every one of them. They shouldn't have attacked my family; they should have focused on driving them out; the Turks…we could settle these land disputes once those heathens were gone!

I rose, turning to my men, my eyes blurred with tears and rain at I looked at each of them in turn.

"Gather the survivors." I spoke in that same beautifully rustic language, able to understand what I said, but only just so.

It was now I realized who I was: I was the Count in his youth.

I walked over to my horse, placing one hand in the stiff brown hair, looking up into it's ebony eyes. It jerked it's head back, it's bridle swinging down within my grasp.  
I mounted, swinging my leg over and settling in the hard leather of the saddle, glancing down at the men beneath me, who were still staring up at me with their dark, almond eyes.

It was then I knew the ultimate betrayal: A spear at the ready, piercing my armor as my men looked on, their swords ready for my flesh.

Instinct kicked in and I spurred my horse, charging above the advancing fray, the spear still pushing itself deep into my ribs, the pain unimaginable.  
But I had to persevere, for my people, for the very people who betrayed me, I had to survive.

My horse stumbled, but I pushed forward, using my cloak to deflect arrows.

My unfortunate horse was taking the most blows, stumbling past the fray. They were trying to cut down my mount to get to me.

By some miracle, I got through the blockade, the rain beating my face and armor as my horse forced itself across the deceptively beautiful Wallachian landscape.  
I didn't stop until night had fallen heavily on the jagged landscape, my horse breathing heavily, it's side covered in blood from the arrows that penetrated it's strong flesh. The wolves were howling all around us, and I myself was heavily wounded. There was no way I was going to survive the night with my injuries.

I felt like crying, my heart full of the poisonous betrayal as I dismounted to further examine my wounds, but alas, the Count's eyes willed no tears. The moment I got off, my horse stumbled and fell, laying motionless on the forest floor.

It must have been going off of sheer adrenaline, and finally died when we stopped.

The wolves were coming closer; the hunter side of my Master coming through. It was now down between the wolves and he.

It was only now that I understood: I was about to witness The Count's creation. Chills ran down my spine as I followed the dream deeper into the trees, desperation setting in as his wounds opened wider, his armor covered in thick, crimson blood.

Something large flew overhead, and the I ducked, leaning against a tree as pain spread through my body: I had left the head of the spear inside me, breaking it off at the end.

I could tell her knew he was going to die, but I had to admire him for fighting. Unlike me, he wasn't going to give up, though his family was dead, his friends betrayed him.

He stumbled along, grasping his sword when he saw a clearing up ahead, filled with a strange and eerie blue-white light.

My armored feet sank into a marsh, the water quickly filling my good leather boots. I could see a woman sitting on a rock across the wide pond and I called out to her, startled that she didn't flee. Her entire visage was strange; her clothing of the highest fashion, all in immaculate white. Her long, dark curls were swept away from her oh-so-lovely face, her black eyebrows arching delicately over a pair of crimson eyes that glowed like embers in the dim light.

It seemed as if a beam of moonlight was shining down from the heavens, casting light on her loveliness, but heavy clouds still clung to the tree line.  
A wolf howled nearby; they had discovered the horse. I felt a tinge of remorse for letting it die in such a grotesque way; it had served me more loyally than my men had.

The woman stood, the white wolf-fur that lined her dress and her kokoshnik positively glowing in the inexplicable light as she reached a delicate hand towards me.  
"Come, Prince Dracula. I can give you what you seek, if you will just come to me." she said, her voice strong and beautiful, like a deep, magical music that filled the clearing.

I wiped the blood out of my eyes, fear seizing me. She was a demon, she had to be!

"Your men betrayed you, your kingdom fled…" Without making a sound she was beside me, the bog barely indenting as her silver slippers touched the moss, the great train of her lavish dress laying a shimmering wake across the darkened green. She was the source of the light. She couldn't have been a devil; devils are foul…she must have been…from God…

"I can bring it all back to you…you just give me one thing, Prince Dracula…"

The taiga around me shifted, seeming to melt away beneath my feet. I wanted to know what happened, but instead I found myself staring at the sky at the dawn crept slowly over the horizon, painting the sky shades of crimson, orange and grey.

There was a familiar, searing pain in my neck, though it was the only pain I'd felt. The woman stood beside me, now draped in a brown cloak. Behind me stood more than a thousand men, their stench rising to meet me over the soft morning breeze. They were ghouls; nothing but animated corpses, ruined vampires.

"These men will not betray you, as I am certain you will not betray me. In four hundred and fifty four years, I will return to take my price." The woman said thickly, looking at me through those dark lashes, a serene and almost sly smile curving her ruby lips. I nodded, a chill of fear striking me as the dawn spread across the sky, illumination the town below. I knew this feeling: his heart was slowing to a stop.

In an instant, she was gone. The wind picked up, the scent of fire spreading through the air.

I looked over at my horse, it's sharpened teeth bared as it pawed one bloody hoof at the ground impatiently.

It wanted blood. We all wanted blood. The wound in my neck made me thirst for it.

I leapt up into the horses back, pike in hand, turning to my troops and addressing them. They stood in rapt silence, waiting for the final word, waiting for the command to strike, a thousand pikes trembling with want for blood.

A sort of terror-filled adrenaline coursed through me, my body shaking with laughter as I ordered them to slaughter, watching them flood down around me like a tidal wave of black and crimson.

Horror filled my being, but the Count was undeterred. How could he order the slaughter of so many? So many innocents? It went against everything that he taught me, his words ringing in my ears "Take what you need, nothing more."

I heard a voice softly calling my name, my real name, a soft Romanian intonation permeating the gentle male voice. The same voice I had heard order the murder of countless lives.

I opened my eyes, fear gripping me as I realized I was laying, my eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling of my dormitory. My eyelashes were crusted with crystals of blood, making small, orange orbs appear in my peripheral vision.

I felt someone else there in the room with me, over and above the other girls, who were sighing and snoring softly in their sleep, safe and sound behind their green draperies.

Unable to move, I felt two long, thin fingers on my chest, keeping me back without any real resistance.

"Are you angry with me?" I felt long fingers close over my mouth, the soft hissing sound of being hushed permeating the air. "Don't scream."

I stared up into a face I had only seen in Dumbledore's memory, a face that belonged to no one I cared for, but the voice was unmistakable.

"Are you angry." the man repeated, removing his hand from my mouth. "For what I have done."

I opened my mouth to reply, my voice lost in my throat.

"Master…I'm not…" I breathed, unable to remove my eyes from that beautiful face. "Is this a dream?"

I could feel my blood collecting to my head, making me dizzy and uncomfortable as I lay there. It didn't feel like a dream, but it was too strange to be anything but, even by my standards.

"Yes." I felt him sit down beside me. I was afraid to move, to make this all vanish. I felt a small degree of disappointment as he used his thumb to wipe the dried tears away from my eyes. "It's a half dream. You are both awake and asleep."

I blinked, an uncomfortable floating feeling taking over my body; it felt like I was slowly sliding to the foot of my bed.

"You're angry and hurt. I can see in your mind and your heart." He touched my chest gently, placing his hand on the flesh above my breasts. "You can't deceive me, you never could" The Count replied, brushing strands of hair away form my shoulders, his fingers catching on the soft white cotton of my nightgown.

"I don't…" I found myself spluttering my lack of understanding, watching the smooth, porcelain face. "Are you alive?"

"No..." He said softly, his voice so soft and sweet that it brought a lump to my throat. "I exist now as a Stealer: a life without a body…I come when people sleep and take their bodies. They become me for a few hours, then I let them go."

"I don't understand…" I tried sitting up, but the Count held me back. "If you… if you just held on to their bodies…"

"They would die." he said softly. "I've taken more than my share of lives…as She was so kind as to show you."

"She?"

"Lillith." He said, his voice carrying a tone of bitterness. "She's after me…Don't wake up, not yet. If you wake up, you and I can't communicate, and I don't know when I'll have a chance to come back…she's watching you, watching your dreams…"

My brain didn't filly process where I'd heard that name before: Lillith? It seemed it had something to do with Dante...

"Why have you taken this long?" I whispered, not daring to raise my voice any higher then a breathy whisper. He leaned down, kissing my forehead, wiry black hair sweeping across my skin. I felt a chill in the darkness, his body unnaturally skeletal and frail, as if it would snap at any second.

"Please forgive me." He whispered softly, pressing his forehead against mine. "All will be explained in due time, but when one breaks a Faustian Bargain , the devil is not so kind as to forgive. I came as soon as I was strong enough." His crimson eyes looked into mine, the iris's glowing like ambers in the darkness. I felt understanding flowing through my foggy brain, something I had to write down when I woke up, it was deathly important.

"I don't understand why you are alive…The Death Eater's killed…"

"They killed my body. You must know vampires can go neither to heaven nor hell when they die…"

My heat was buzzing dully. I was waking up, as much as I tried to will myself back to sleep: five more minutes, five more minutes with the Count…

The Count pulled away slightly, his face strained. He knew I was waking up…

There were so many questions running through my mind, my lips lacking the will to move and my tongue betraying itself.

"I like your Annabelle. She is well suited for the task you have assigned to her. I have only met one more clever than she, and only just so. I am certain Dr. Van Helsing himself would be impressed with her prowess. You two are right for one another…"

"Are you the one who bit Dante?"

The room was uncomfortably silent for a long time as his crimson eyes looked anywhere but into mine.

"Integra, there is an Iadul Contractului afoot. Dante is, unfortunately, the human sacrifice, and that is why you must do everything within your power to protect him, to make sure that if he does turn into a full vampire, you kill him before anyone else has a chance to."

I closed my eyes to shut out the thought of having to kill Dante, but the Count remained by my side, his weight barely shifting the bed. He was definitely there. This wasn't a dream, my face becoming thoroughly soaked with blood as more and more tears streamed down my cheeks.

I broke down into sobs, curling against his side, his bony hand on my back. "I can't kill him, I just can't…"

"Integra, my love…"

One of the girls stirred in her sleep, and the Count faltered slightly, glancing over. I could see that he was mostly mist in the darkness, not fully recomposed due to his health. He was fading fast, even now it was taking a great deal of energy to appear. Had it really taken him thirteen years to heal to this extent?

"Integra, you know I will be here in spirit, if I can't in body. I will be the hand that serves you, though you may not understand how, or why...Just get stronger, for me."

"I don't understand."

He shook his head, leaning in for another kiss. "Things are already in motion, what is happening to you us not unusual around the world. They are beginning to round up all the vampires and dispose of them, all to thwart Her. There are a few of the true Methuselah who are surviving the Great Pyres, or evading them altogether. The Living are making haste, but you and I will have to wars to fight in the end…She cannot prevail."

Movement from the end of the dormitory made him drop his voce into a whisper that only he and I could hear. "I have to go… remember that I love you…regardless of what is said…Frumoasa mea dragoste."

"Wait, don't go!" I cried, sitting up as the mist vanished from around me, swirling up into the vast darkness of the endless ceiling.

I found myself covered in blood, my mouth open and a sharp pain surging through my neck, making my fingertips twitch. I let out a whimper, the wound in my neck torn anew. It hadn't been a dream…I don't know if he had been here or not, but I knew that whatever had been there had taken my blood.

"Shut up, Black!" I heard one of the girls call, throwing a pillow at my bed.

It hit the green velvet curtain and slid down, and I fell back against the bed in frustration. I felt deeply disturbed and I got up finally, my arms feeling hot with frustration. I changed out of my blood-soaked clothing before leaving the girls dormitory in a fit of irritation. I needed to think, and to feed.

XxX

I thought heavily upon my conversation with The Count, writing it down as well as I could recall in the notebook that Anna had lent me, though I didn't tell her verbally about it until much later.

I dwelled on it until I was put in an ill mood that was only matched by Anna's, though hers was caused by Dr. Van der Zanden's insistence that anyone who associates with vampires is very nearly as bad as a vampire itself.

"How to you live with this bigotry?" Anna seethed one afternoon in February, slamming the infirmary door behind her. "Is it like this very often for you?"

"Oh, he's a bit of an extremist, being an Illuminati and all. Most people aren't so vocal about it." I sighed, wiping my hand on my robes. Moments before, the good doctor had doused us both with a vial of Holy Water and told us to get out of the infirmary. Anna had taken most of it, but some of it remained on my hands, leaving a burning, tingling sensation it it's wake. It wasn't particularly painful, just annoying. Anna looked more angry than I did, though.

"He is our friend, why shouldn't we be able to see him?"

"Because I'm a vampire, and he's suffering from vampirism?" I muttered dryly, picking at a loose thread on my book bag. "It's guilt by association. He really doesn't care who or what you are. You're going to hell."

I had never seen or heard Anna laugh so hard before. It was positively maniacal, her body twisting slightly as she threw her head back and laughed. I couldn't help but laugh slightly as well, causing a few timid looking first-years to divert their course in order to avoid us.

"It's true, I am going to Hell." Anna laughed, shifting her bag. And as she walked away to her class, I couldn't help but frown. She wasn't the first Living person that had openly admitted they were going to hell, but she was certainly the most exemplary of who shouldn't.

Within weeks, Dante was well enough to walk around the infirmary, though he was a great deal thinner than when I had met him, and he shook slightly when he walked, leaning heavily on a cane, but his face was bright with glee at his newly regained freedom.

Thankfully, this made it more difficult for Dr. Van der Zanden to keep an eye on him, which gave Anna and I more opportunities to speak to him without the doctors influence.

We kept the conversations light-hearted, never daring to cross into darker, more serious matters like we had before. The truth was, Anna and I were not as trusting of Dante was we once were, Dr. Van der Zanden having no doubt poisoned his mind.

I spoke to him briefly about how he felt about becoming a vampire, but assured him that the chances of this were slim due to recovery. He seemed torn between relief and curiosity to why I would suggest that he still could become a vampire, however, when he asked, I simply shook my head and dismissed it as paranoia on my part.

Dante seemed to be making a full recovery, being the same sprightly young man I had met in Italy, though he seemed slightly happier here, though he now walked only with the help of a cane despite his youth. Many of Hogwarts female students didn't mind, though.

XxX

* * *

A/n: I hate the dream sequence in this. I really do. I wrote it three times before I felt comfortable enough with what Lillith was showing her, and even so, I'm not sure about it.

I drew from Romanian history folklore as much as I could as far the dream goes, and I based the Count off of Vlad Tepes, who's father and brother, were, in fact, slaughtered by the Boyars. His older brother's manner of death, from what I've read, is accurate. I wouldn't make something like that up.

I had a bit of a hard time with folklore on this one. As 'known' as Romanian folklore is, it's hard to document...


	13. Exile

Sometime in the middle of March, a sort of rift began to occur between Anna and I, and we no longer spent every available moment with each other. It brought me great distress. I blamed it on mid-term examinations, and the fact that Dante was pretty much back to his old self, but there was something missing from each of us that no one could quite pinpoint.

The stormy weather of early spring seemed to be the source of Anna's suddenly irritable temper. In turn, I grew grim and sullen. I was growing more and more concerned about what The Count had said to me to previous month, though I didn't voice it. Even in short, surly conversations with der Zanden, I caught hints and snippets of the dark goings on even in his native country of Holland, which was why he was moving his family to Hogsmead.

It was early April when I confronted Anna in the hallway out side of the Hospital wing, calling her on the growing rift.

"I don't want to talk about it." She said suddenly, eyes narrowing behind her glasses. I took a step back, raising one eyebrow.

"Well, Anna, I do."

Anna shook her head. "You wouldn't understand."

"Anna, now more than ever, you and I need to band together…I just have a feeling that there's something big going on here…"

Anna stood stock still, one slender eyebrow cocked over a sea-foam green eye. "Like what?"

I looked at her, my expression unintentionally blank. "I don't know. I don't want to say what, just in case I'm wrong. In fact, pray that I am…"

"Well, that's not very helpful, is it?" She said, turning to go.

"Wait, Anna, I'm sorry. I know there there's a lot going on here, and you have a lot on your plate. We both do. I'm just paranoid…"

"Then just tell me already, so I can understand it! At least give me a reason to even stick around."

I shook me head. "You've worried too much already…"

"Stop treating me like a child." Anna said quietly, her tone low and dangerous. "Don't think I won't figure it out."

I shook my head. "I can't do that, Anna, your marks have already suffered…"

I saw her fist fly at my face but I dodged it with ease, twisting out of the way as it arced towards my head. This seemed only to inflame Anna's anger more, as she did something I never would have guessed: she turned on her heel and walked away.

I stood alone in the sunlit hallway for what felt like eternity, my hand just barely touching the oaken door as I struggled to control my own anger. She had every right to be angry, but I was trying to protect her as best as I could. I had just never expected her to be so…coldly mature about it in the end.

My fingers clenched around the door handle, the solid metal groaning beneath my grasp before I ripped the knob clean off, heaving it straight for a statue the guarded the infirmary doors. I watched in slow motion as the marble cracked, the head falling backwards and shattering on the flagstone floor.

"Ooooh, naughty naughty! Did the little Draculina loose her temper?"

I turned see to Peeves bloated, luminescent form hovering to my left, my gun drawn before I even knew what I was doing.

Six shots rang out, exploding-tip bullets shattering the wood paneling behind the stunned poltergeist's head.

"There's more where that came from, you undead filth!" I roared, laughing with an insane glee as I reloaded. Peeves zoomed off, laughing as Dante wrenched open the door, dropping his cane to keep me from fully reloading the gun. Too late.

With a flick of my wrist the chamber was in place, Dante pushing me to the floor as my arm swung around to push him off. I smashed the butt of the pistol against his skull, breaking his skin as a few ruby droplets fell on my face. I could see that I'd hurt him greatly, but I didn't care right now.

"Give me the gun, Integra." He said tersely as Dr. Van der Zanden joined the fray. Dr. Van der Zanden managed to wrestle the heavy metal weapon out of my hand. I don't know if his hand slipped, or if he did it deliberately, but I heard a shot ring out.

I took the bullet square in the forehead, the bullet embedding itself the flagstone behind me. I could feel blood saturating my hair, spreading across the floor beneath me as I stared blankly at the ceiling.

Only a few times in my life had I felt pain that severe, and with anger surging through my body, my blood was leaking faster onto the floor. Within seconds, I was gone, turned into nothing but shadows and mist and leaving a pool of blood in my wake.

Dante was kneeling on his weak leg, looking stricken, his hand splayed in the stale blood. Anna had come back up the hallway at the sound of the scuffle, her books having falling to the ground in horror when the bullet pierced my skull. She thought I was dead, for sure.

I was thankful for my ability to transform, and my reflexes not getting too dulled from misuse, but I wasn't ready to go back yet. I was hurt and angry, and worst of all, full of foolish spite.

And on top of that, this was exactly the opportunity I had been waiting for.

XxX

Vampires rarely live past a hundred years on average. Albeit some credit goes to vampire hunters and other vampires and their petty wars, but honestly I don't believe now that any thing was meant to live over a century, much less a century and a half or more. Oftentimes, vampire will go mad and commit themselves to the flames. It certainly takes a true vampire; one that is strong in the heart and the head, to outlast the rest.

I knew that the Count had been around four hundred years old when I first met him, but he alluded to much older vampires on several rare occasions.

I also knew that if I were to combat these vampires, such as the one he feared and entrusted with the name 'Lillith', I would have to get stronger, to sharpen my mind and body. I never had been a particularly extraordinary girl. I didn't have Anna's brain or Dante's charm, but I had always been hard to kill, stout and stubborn. Even the Count commented that upon my First Death, I had somehow clung to life until the last possible moment, in spite of my apparent willingness to die in the months previous.

I don't actually recall much of what happened in the weeks following my disappearance, all of the moments blurring into oblivion. In one manner, my exile seemed to drag on for eternity, but in other manners, it didn't seem to take long at all.

I recall the chilly air of early Spring in the Forbidden Forest, traveling silently through Hogsmead, Dementors scattering and cowering in my wake.

I was covered in blood, wandering aimlessly through the night, sleeping in cemeteries and holes during the day. I wandered along long, paved muggle roads, highways, waiting for some unsuspecting good Samaritan to offer me a ride to the hospital.

I felt guilt for taking advantage of a Muggles faultless kindness like that. It was inexcusable, solely for selfish reasons, but now I understood why the Count had grown so powerful; the more lives I took, the more blood I drank, the stronger I got. He must have drank the blood of an entire nation!

I suppose I became some sort of 'urban legend', though there was hardly anything 'urban' about my hunting grounds. I would let families go, never preying on children; I would let them drop me off by the hospital, and then I would disappear into the night.

It was wonderful being free of the Ministry, being free of the worldly responsibilities I had been bridled with even in death, but I often thought about Anna and Dante. More than once, I would run across a couple, a brother and sister, or a small family that would remind me so strongly of them, I couldn't take their lives, out of something I liked to think was love. Though hindsight tells me it was simply cowardice and arrogance on my part.

My heart hurt knowing that Anna and Dante thought I was dead, and I worried about how it was impacting them. It had been stupid, spiteful, and impulsive, but it was my ticket away from the Ministry, now I could focus on hunting Lillith.

I felt weak and defenseless without my gun, and more than once, I contemplated returning to steal it back, but I knew full well Hogwarts was nearly impenetrable and I didn't think I could handle returning in my emotional state.

One night, on a lonely stretch of country road, I found myself wandering aimlessly, looking up at the moon, yellow with smoke from a nearby bonfire. I could hear an engine approaching one, maybe two miles away.

I stepped to the side of the road, walking along the gravel, the breeze sweeping my hair away from my face.

I could see the headlights shining past me, cutting through the darkness. I shielded my eyes as the car drew close, slowing to a crawl beside me, the smell of the oil and gasoline poisoning the air and clouding my senses.

"Hey baby, need a ride?" I glanced up, a red-haired teen leaning out of the window, his friends cheering and blowing catcalls. I was startled to hear a heavy, cockney accent this far north, but I hid my surprise with a coy smile.

"Oh, a ride would be lovely. I've been walking for so long…" I said softly, dropping my eyes to the ground and letting a slow, shy smile across my face. I was singing the same song, different audience.

"You're cute, love, where ya from?" One of the other boys asked, leaning past his friend.

"London…" I said, stopping when the car slowed to a halt. I knew they had no intention of giving me a ride anywhere…I knew guys like this.

The door opened and I got in, crawling across the laps of the guys to sit in the middle. I could smell their blood, thinned with cheap alcohol.

I sat back with a smile, the boys suddenly breaking into laughter. Without waiting a second, my smile never faltering, I tore into the neck of the boy on my left, draining him before the others had a chance to react. By the time I had gotten to the one on my right, the remaining two were beginning to panic, stopping the car and running out across the road, into a sheep fold.

They would be easy prey. I exited the car, chasing the boy that had been in the passenger seat across the field.

"You shouldn't pick on little girls." I whispered, pinning him to the ground and licking at his neck. He smelled of cheap vodka and laundry soap, his body and spirit deliciously innocent, yet tainted by his world.

I was startlingly gentle, using my mind against his as I drank form his neck. He submitted easily, and I felt guilt for doing so. These boys were really just innocent.  
But had it been another girl they had encountered…

I finished, looking around for the last one, his scent lingering faintly. He had run into the trees, jumping the fence and leaving only his scent in his wake.

I paused for a second, contemplating leaving him alive; I didn't need more blood, I had drank enough to sustain myself. But it would be too cruel, after witnessing the deaths of his friends…

I followed him into the trees, his head start giving him ample time to make a futile attempt at hiding.

I stopped, looking around, trying to catch his scent.

I could smell a bird very close, a dove with an unusual scent, but the teen's scent was faint. I followed it into the trees, but stopped when I saw the boy laying in a clearing, struggling to get up, one hand clenched to his throat.

I ran closer, but he put up his fist, his hand firmly closed around a lighter, flicking it desperately.

"Get back, you monster!"

I paused walking around him in a circle.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, looking down at his neck. It had been slashed…another vampire had attacked him. "I'm the only one who can get you out…I'm the only one who can save you…you'll bleed out in less than a half hour…"

"I'll get myself out!" he snapped, desperately flicking the lighter. I stepped closer, knocking the lighter out of his hand and pulling the other away form his neck.

"You have lost far too much blood." I said softly, pulling his jumper off of his shoulders and pressing it to the wound. He winced, the generous rings in his ears glinting in the moonlight.

"Try to stay calm…tell me what you saw…who did this to you?"

"Take me to the hospital and I'll tell you." his voice was failing as he struggled to hold on; he was clinging desperately to life, all the while trying to maintain his pride.  
I nodded, lifting him in my arms, taking him out to the main highway and flagging down a car.

I doubled back, kicking the front end of the car in and pushing it into the field, using the lighter to catch the engine on fire. I don't know why I spared the young man. There was really no reason other than pity…maybe seeing what happened to the Count had changed me, or perhaps experiencing my second death at the hands of Dr. Van der Zanden had softened me, and the thought of Anna and Dante had stayed my hand.

But I knew I was wrong. Sparing him had been especially cruel.

I continued to hunt, going as far as Northern Scotland so I wouldn't be found out. More than once, I contemplated heading south and into Europe, but the thought of getting caught by the Ministry at such an early stage didn't appeal to me. I hadn't had enough lives to make up for what they would do to me. There weren't enough lives in the world.

By now I had finally worked up the nerve to do entire families, pinning a string of house fires on a local street gang. I had even gotten a job as a muggle barista for a few weeks to cover myself.  
At the coffee shop, I would choose my victims carefully: no regulars, always tourists, usually male.

Knowing that my exile had to end eventually, I turned back to Hogsmead within the month, arriving under a moonless night, the warm air making the world seem to move more slowly.

But I wasn't ready to return to Hogwarts just yet.

Perhaps I was being petty. I knew that they had appeared to be in pain as well, but Anna and Dante seemed to have found now companionship with Dr. Van der Zanden on the nights I found myself looking longingly into the castle windows.

For Dante, Dr. Van der Zanden seemed to be the functional father he had always been missing, and for Anna, he was a brilliant mind to be picked and prodded at. He was as good as a book to her, each new page chock-full of fascinating information.

The sting of replacement seemed to tear at me. I had never been good at making bonds, and to have my place in the trio so easily filled hurt deeply, so I emotionally turned my back on them, withdrawing further and further into the Forbidden Forest, with the rest of the evil that resided there.

This was a new idea for me. I had never viewed myself as evil, but now it seemed as though I was, and the desperate cries and whispers of the centaurs and spiders spoke of me as if I were some sort of wretched demon.

Perhaps that is what I had to become, then.

XxX

* * *

A/n: I spent the entire weekend chasing small children with sponges full of water. Didn't get much writing done :/ Trying for Tuesdays/Wednesdays for a chapter deadline, hoping it works!

Integra is so stupid. Seriously, she really should have just gone to the Library :3 But that's what Anna is for.


	14. Dante's Last Night

XxX

Springs thaw had come and gone from Hogsmead, the green grass of spring having given way to early summer's merciless heat. The Semester at Hogwarts was long over, the student's having gone home to holiday with their families and friends.

I emerged from the shadows of the forest on a warm night in mid June, covered in dirt and considerably more wild-looking than I had ever intended, but substantially stronger. However, I was more reckless than before, now having no bonds and needing no one.

The memory of the boy still haunted me, and I found myself stealing newspapers for any word of him. There it was, June 1st: car accident near Northallerton, DUI. No survivors.

I sat back against the trees, wiping my forehead. I had been stupid to save him.

It was this news the prepared me for battle, and to battle, I had to re-emerge into the Wizarding world.

I began my re-emergence with a visit to Dumbledore's office, appearing in the form of mist before slowly recomposing myself in the chair in front of his desk. My time in the forest had certainly not been a waste. On the contrary, a hunt, a truly wild, purely instinctual hunt was the best sort of training a vampire could obtain.

"My apologies for not sending word of my arrival beforehand." I said, as he looked at me patiently from over his half-moon spectacles, waiting for me to finish recomposing. "I was indisposed."

"That's quite all right, Integra, I knew this day would come eventually." He said, opening a drawer. "I took the liberty to alert the ministry to your tragic, accidental death. I have to say; well played."

I sat across from him in my tattered, soil-stained clothes, my hands folded patiently on my lap as I repressed a smile. His eyes sparkled, though his lips remained as straight as they ever were as he passed my gun and wand across the desk to me.

"Let's see how long that lasts." I sighed, leaning back in a pose reminiscent of The Count. "The question is, does Anna know, and what of Dante? How are they?" I immediately cursed myself for the question. I had told myself repeatedly I did not require their companionship…

"Dante is still in the care of Dr. Van der Zanden, though he seems to be doing perfectly well. Augustijn moved his wife and son here from Holland last month due to a strange occurrence after your disappearance."

My interest immediately peaked. "Did it have to do with another vampire?"

Dumbledore looked surprised, but nodded sagely. "Yes, indeed it did…how on earth did you guess?"

I sighed, leaning back. "It was just a dream."

"Dreams still hold powerful sway over people, even the undead."

I immediately felt a tinge of shame, though I bit it back. "Yes, unfortunately…I was worried over Dante at the time. I didn't deem it important enough to tell anyone."  
Dumbledore looked upset, but said nothing to confirm that he was. "Tell me about the dream."

"I don't recall much of it, save for it was...a dream of a nightmare of the Count." Reluctantly, I recounted most of the details as Dumbledore's face grew stern, his eyes taking on a hard edge.

"This is troubling, Integra…very troubling. You should have told me what you knew a long time ago."

"I know I should have, but I didn't, and there nothing that can be done now." I said, my tone more harsh than intended.

"And Anna? What about Anna?"

The office was silent, a soft halo of dust falling from the wide, sunlit windows. Dumbledore shifted, his eyes falling from a smiling gaze.

"She stopped attending class after you left and dropped out. The last I heard of her, she was talking about Romania."

"Romania?"

"Yes, I don't know what she's planning on doing there, but I can assure you that it has something to do with this…" He reached back into the drawer and retrieved a familiar looking black-bound book, passing it across the table. Gold letters were stamped across the binding, glaring back at me through the sunlight as I reached a trembling hand for the book.

'Dracula' by Bram Stoker.

I had seen her with it when I had first brought Dante in: she had been using it as a reference book on how to prevent vampirism.

"After you disappeared she spent all of her time in the library or with Dr. Van der Zanden, who begged her not to go. She's a strong willed girl, that one…"

"Romania is dangerous…she doesn't know what she's getting in to."

"I think she does. She spent a lot of time with Professor…former Professor Lupin…"

"Former? What happened?"

"We'll just say some parents found out that there was a werewolf teaching at Hogwarts, and they weren't entirely happy about it."

"Lycanthropes have even less rights than Vampires…"

Dumbledore nodded and I stood up, taking the book and tucking it under my arm with my gun and my wand. Something seemed off, as if Anna was leaving a trail of clues for me…

"Well, I suppose I should go stop Anna."

"Be careful, Integra. She's dangerous now. That mind and that spirit, you were right to choose her, but her temper…"

"I'll be fine." I said dismissively, waving my hand politely and smiling. What was the worst she could do?

"That reminds me." Dumbledore said, his eyes aglow with amusement. "Madame Trelawney took a liking to Dante and decided to read his fortune. I think you'll be amused by it."

He handed me a piece of parchment. I took it, slightly annoyed that that hippie would pry into Dante's life in such a way.

_ "A dreadful tale of nameless fame;_  
_ A man, a woman, and a vampire's dame,_  
_ One, A Harbinger of Heaven, the darkest flame,_  
_ The second went mad from the foul game,_  
_ And the last the King of Hell became" _

I looked down at the piece of paper, a chill running down my body. I wanted to laugh it away, but there was a ring of possability to it. I folded it gently, tucking it inside the novel that Anna had left.

"Is that all, sir?" I asked, rising to my feet. He nodded, folding his hands and looking at me.

"You know this will most likely be the last time we see each other alive." He said plainly from behind his gently folded hands. Reluctantly, I looked up at him.

"Let's just hope it isn't."

XxX

Dumbledore had miraculously kept most of my things, and after bathing and changing my clothes, I set out to find Dr. Van der Zanden, in the hopes of finding out a little more about Anna's plan of action.

Hogsmead was a big risk for me, but thankfully I was able to keep to the back alleys, ducking only into the seediest establishments to ask for directions in regards to the Van der Zanden household.

I felt it growing dark by the time I found a man who knew only vaguely of whom I spoke, referring to Dr. Van der Zanden as 'that Dutch bloke'. We exchanged a few words before he sent me out of town to a small orchard.

The Van dr Zanden's house wasn't difficult to find. It was sizeable, not ridiculously huge, but not horribly cramped like many of the houses in London. The scene was very nearly pastoral in appearance, and there was something incredibly enjoyable about this modest house, surrounded by a blossoming orchard in the dying sunlight.  
Within I could smell a woman, cooking over an open fire as many women in the wizarding world do. Dr. Van der Zanden was upstairs somewhere, but there was no sign of Dante or Anna, though both of their scents lingered in this place.

I opened the whitewashed gate, stopping just shy of the tulips that flanked the open kitchen door.

I looked up at the house, it's windows lit golden in the sunset, a chill running down my spine. Another vampire was near, just in the trees…watching me like a great predator. It was female, more powerful than the Count…could it have been Lillith? I shook my head. No, there was no reason for her to be here…  
There was a quiet feeling of despair surrounding the small cottage, and perhaps that is what made it so attractive to me.

"Doctor! Herr Van der Zanden!" I called to the open window. I saw a face appear, pulling the curtain back for a second before I heard a commotion in the kitchen.

"Miss Black! Get in here!" Dr. Van der Zanden came out to meet me, grasping my shoulder with an iron grip and practically dragging me inside. He seemed older than I recalled, his face more sunken and harried and his hair peppered with a bit more grey. Perhaps it was the firelight, but his features seemed much more rugged and angular than before.

"Sit down, please." he pulled a chair out for me as his wife turned from the fire, casting me an apprising look from behind her sea-grey eyes. Dr. Van der Zanden seemed nervous, almost jumpy, his pulse was up, his blood was rushing.

"You should have told me we would be having a dinner guest, Augustijn." Mrs. Van der Zanden said, straightening up and smoothing out the lines in her apron, brushing a cloud of flour from the bleached muslin folds.

"No, no." I said raising me hands and declining as politely as I could muster. "I just came for a few moments to discuss something with Dr. Van der Zanden."

Mrs. Van der Zanden nodded, her full mouth twitching at the edges. Something was bothering her, as well.

"Mein dear Uta…" Dr. Van der Zanden muttered, pulling up a chair beside mine and addressing his wife adoringly. "This is Integra Black…the vampire I told you about."  
I didn't know how I felt about this, but Mrs. Van der Zanden looked somewhat relieved. I felt uncomfortable in their house, but I felt a great deal safer than I had been outside.

"Doctor, you know I don't like to waste time." he cut me off before I could finish.

"I am happy you chose tonight to finally re-emerge."

I blinked. "Why?"

"Miss. Anna left this morning…but I doubt that has much to do with the problem at hand…"

"What is it?"

"Hans, my son, went out on errand and hasn't returned. Dante went out after him an hour ago. I was readying to go after them myself when you came…Miss Integra, I know we have not seen eye to eye in the past, but your clan is needing you now, and I as well."

I winced slightly at him calling us a 'clan', a wave of guilt sweeping over me as the full selfishness of my act hit me. I had been a bad vampire, I had abandoned my 'clan' when they needed me the most…

"Please come help me look for him, I fear something horrible is afoot here…"

I nodded, standing up. "Dumbledore told me of a female visitor…"

Dr. Van der Zanden nodded, standing and grabbing his coat from a hook on the door. "Yes, a powerful female Nosferatu. I though by description she was you, but Miss. Anna and I encountered her on the road one night. She was nothing like you. I have reason to believe she is older and more powerful than Dracula…" He stopped, glancing around the kitchen before his eyes fell on his wife. "Uta, I needn't instruct you…"

Uta nodded, reaching into her apron pocket and pulling out a rather impressive, sleek looking gun. It looked as though it was a repeating arm, similar in principal to mine, though a great deal newer and a much higher caliber. She loaded a clip into it with mind numbing ease, her face taking on a grim sort of toughness.

"Always ready, Augustijn." she said with a sad, beleaguered smile, her lips curved upwards at the edges and the folds about her eyes deepened. She was obviously full of fire and spunk, despite her composed demeanor beside the crackling fire. Not someone I would want on my bad side.

"Come, then, Integra, I would advise readying your gun."

XxX

* * *

A/n: ...I really shouldn't write poetry. It makes me look bad.


	15. The Death of Dante Esposito

There is something darker one must understand about vampires, something I have leaned only recently. I suppose it makes sense on some level, though I personally do not understand it fully.

Human beings are by far the cruelest of all of the creatures. I only say that because they know when they are being cruel, and only they have the power to stop it. No one beyond themselves is accountable for their actions.

The cruelty and torture that the Count suffered at the hands of the Turks, and the betrayal of his men served as a catalyst to him becoming a vampire. He never told me directly about the day he was Turned, but he did tell me everything else about his childhood.

The rape, the beatings, the torture, all for the sake of a nonexistent peace. It wasn't until my dream that I had known the full details.

Which leads me to my new assessment; In order to become a vampire, the living victim must endure the cruelest of human conditions. Cruelty is the fire that refines the soul, melting it into purity. From that purity, we are born.

Dr. Van der Zanden and I set out in the moonlight, the other vampire's presence always remaining just beyond our field of detection. It was obviously intelligent, cruel, toying with us like this was some kind of game. Had it not been for Dante I never would have consented to this expedition, but I felt a certain sense duty, not only to Dante, but for some inexplicable reason, Dr. Van der Zanden and his wife, for taking care of my 'clan'. If it were me in their position, I wouldn't forgive anyone who turned their back, and at this point, I needed all of the allies I could get.

Augustijn and I were silent, both tracking like a pair of hunters after some great prey. Despite multiple attempts to convince me to take to the air, I was still unwilling to leave Dr. Van der Zanden's side.

You see, the problem with the Living as vampire hunters is that they are weak and easily corruptible. The Undead are not entirely impervious, either, but there is always safety in numbers, where one can easily watch the other's back.

On top of that, I feared betrayal. I did not want to be led out to the woods and slaughtered like a dog. So I had to keep and eye on Augustijn as well.  
I caught a scent up ahead, beside a swamp. Fresh blood, virgin, male…

I broke into a run, and before Dr. Van der Zanden even knew I had gone, I was breaking through the bracken of the clearing. I spotted something white laying beneath some wild rose bushes beside the marsh, curled into a ball. I couldn't get close but I knew immediately what it was.

"Hans! Hans Van der Zanden!" I called, coming as close as I could. He had been smart to hide beneath the wild roses…

I saw his head come up from his knees, blond locks falling into his eyes, his face and neck smeared with blood.

"Away, vampire!"

"It's all right! I am a friend of your father's, my name is Integra Black."

As my name spilled from my lips, I heard a great ruckus in the trees; thousands of birds taking flight into the twilight sky.

"Back, monster!" He hissed, brandishing a sharpened tree branch. I couldn't help but appreciate the charm of his efforts.

"Hans, have you seen Dante? It's terribly important, please, you must tell me!" I called above the cawing. A chill ran down my spine as Hans simply curled into a tighter ball, drawing his knees closer to his chin. "Hans, tell me what happened."

"She took him." I heard him mumble.

"Where did she take him?"

He shook his head just as I heard Augustijn come crashing through the trees behind me.

"Integra! Hans!"

Hans shot out from beneath the bushes, nearly pushing me out of the way. "Papa!" he screamed, nearly jumping into the older man's arms. I turned back and glanced at the pair.

"Take him back to your home and make sure he's alright. I'm going ahead to look for Dante."

"I can't let you go on your own, Integra."

"Take Hans back."

I heard Hans ask a rude question about me, but Augustijn dismissed it with a hush.

"I'll return…"

"No, stay inside the house. I will bring Dante back."

And foolishly, without waiting for a response, I began my pursuit of the other female vampire. With each second that ticked my I was growing more and more annoyed by her game. When I found her, I would kill her.

I tracked the scent deeper and deeper into the trees, my surroundings becoming more an more familiar as I withdrew back into the Forbidden Forest. My stomach twisted into worried knots as the darkness closed in around me. I could handle this, but what about Dante?

His scent was faint, and seemed to be scattered. I paused for a moment, frustration seizing me. All around me in the great, moss-clad trees were doves, thousands of them, whispering in the trees, their hypnotic, lilting voices making it difficult to focus. I shook my head. These weren't normal birds. They didn't smell like doves. They smelled like vampires, or more specifically, one vampire.

"Reveal yourself!" I snarled, cocking my weapon and aiming it at the densest part of the flock. I could recall the Count being able to shape shift at will like this, taking the form of a large bat. I myself hadn't experimented with this, but I often wondered if I had the potential.

"Now, now, bite your tongue, you impulsive little girl." A soft, lilting voice cooed from the trees. Somehow, the sheer sound of the voice made my blood boil. I recognized the voice, and immediately I hated her, but I stayed my hand. I wanted to get Dante and I out of this alive, and now, more than ever, was a time for diplomacy.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, forcing my voice into an even tone that bordered on deadpan.

The doves all broke into a soft flapping that sounded remarkably like laughter, taking flight through the branches, dispersing in all directions. One swooped close overhead and I felt something slimy smack into my face. I grabbed at it before it could fall and much to my disgust and shock, I was staring down at an eyeball, it's iris a deep brown that bordered on black. I knew that eyeball immediately, by scent if nothing else. I felt my limbs shaking with anger, nearly crushing the eyeball in rage. I cast it aside, my senses alive in the forest as I pursued my prey. I could smell her, and I felt my chest swell: Dante's scent was with hers, his blood still pounding through his veins. I could feel his pain, his despair: he didn't believe that his salvation would come.

But he was still alive, and that is what mattered. I felt tears of joy swell in my chest, but I had to force them back and keep going.

I broke through the bracken into a clearing with a large pool. My eyes were met with the site of Lillith, sitting, balanced delicately on a downed log. She was by every description a beautiful woman, with pale skin and long, black hair rolling over her bared shoulders in waves. She had a full mouth that was pulled into a lightly amused smile, and a thin nose, but her eyes were the most startling part of her. I had never seen such and exhibit of utter cruelty and amusement reflected in her eyes as she watched Dante, who was lying on the cold, damp ground, one hand covering his missing eye, the other clutching his stomach.

His own long, dark hair was matted to his face, his olive skin drenched in blood and vomit. The pain was excruciating for him, and I could smell his fear. His blood was in the air, sending goose bumps down my spine. I was amazed he was still alive; his injuries were serious, but not lethal. He'd lost a lot of blood.  
I must have taken them by surprise, or at least, Lillith seemed surprised when she saw me appear before her suddenly. Dante didn't react to me; I believe that he had withdrawn into his own little world by then, his mind lost in the pain.

I pulled Dante into my arms, holding him with one arm and leveling my gun with her white-clad breast.

"If you touch anyone from my clan again…"

Her smile broadened, her sharp teeth stained with blood, her purplish-red eyes glittering maliciously.

"You poor, misguided little girl. That Boyar obviously didn't give you the complete story…"

"Silence, you wretched hag." I raised the gun to her neck and opened fire, pulling the trigger back and severing her head with bullets. She simply laughed, shrouding herself with mist. I felt myself begin to tremble, Dante's deadweight seeming unusually heavy.

"I expected more of you. You will lose this war if you don't side with me. I'll take what the Boyar owes me." And like a flame extinguished by water, she vanished in a flock of doves, leaving me alone in the clearing with Dante.

I leaned him back in my arms, his heartbeat slowing with each moment that passed. He was dying.

XxX

I don't recall ever having traveled so quickly in my life. My eyes were blurred with scarlet tears by the time I passed the Van der Zanden's garden gate, Dante slumped against my neck. Augustijn ran out to meet me, taking Dante from me with some effort. We were both covered in blood, but I didn't even notice.

We laid Dante out on the kitchen table, Uta pressing a damp cloth to his forehead. He was awake, but he didn't seem aware. Uta said it was because of shock. His heartbeat had stabilized, but it still seemed painfully slow.

He was trembling violently as Uta cleaned up his empty eye socket. I was torn between repulsion and hunger as she dabbed the blood away with a rag soaked in some alcohol. Augustijn and I had to hold him down to keep him from furthering the extent of his injuries. At random points, he would just fly into a fit, trying to attack anyone who came near, then going completely rigid, he would settle against the heavy table as if waiting patiently for death to take him.

His long, black hair was so crusted with mud, blood, and bile that Uta had to cut it until it rested on his shoulders. It seemed a shame to do so, but Uta was trying her best to keep Dante comfortable and alive.

Throughout the night, I spoke softly to Dante, but it was to no avail. He was just a shell, sedated by some poultice Uta had given him. The hours crawled past, each achingly slow as the heavy sky grew lighter. I think deep down I knew Dante was going to die from the moment I heard that he had gone after Hans, but I didn't want to believe it.

I blamed myself. Had it not been for my anger, for my stupidity, and my stubborn pride, he and Anna would be safe.

My stomach twisted into knots as I thought of Anna. If the woman had gone after Dante, what was to stop her from going after Anna?

I felt the grip on my hand tighten, the glaze slowly vanishing from Dante's undamaged eye. The sky outside was a soft shade of pink, dew forming on the yellow roses that adorned the kitchen window.

"Don't speak, Dante." I cautioned, quietly begging him to hold on just a little longer. He smiled at us all, a collective shudder running through the room; his teeth had grown sharper in the night.

"Don't be afraid, Signorina…" he whispered, his cheeks flushed from the tremendous effort it was taking for him to even draw breath. "I can't think of a better place to die."

"I'm so sorry, Dante…" I whispered, taking off my blood-soaked jumper.

"No, It's not your fault, Integra…"

Without hesitation, I seized a kitchen knife from the counter, slashing my wrist in a downward stroke and jamming the torn flesh into Dante's open mouth. I heard Uta scream, and Augustijn tried to stop me, but Dante's lips were firmly in place, gently licking the blood from my wound. I felt the same electric feeling in my core that I felt when I drank the Counts blood, and I suddenly understood what it was to create a vampire. I felt embarrassed at the sudden realization of what I was doing, but I couldn't stop, especially since it could save Dante.

"Integra, you fool!" Augustijn hissed, raising his hand against me, but Uta stopped him.

"Augustijn."

"I can't let him die…I just can't…" I wiped my eyes, not wanting to cry. Dante began to cough and I pulled my arm away, Uta wrapping it tightly in a clean dishtowel. He was trying so hard, he wanted to live.

I could see it in his battered face.

Dante continued to cough and choke on the blood. Dr. Van der Zanden rolled him on his side, and Dante gasped, spitting the blood out on the table. He pushed Augustijn away, trying to sit up, but merely slumping forward into my outstretched arms.

"Relax, Dante…please…you're making it worse." I whispered, laying him back down on the table as gently as I possibly could.

"Integra…I…" His voice got lost in his throat, his open eye staring glassily at the ceiling, glossing over as his heart stopped. I heaved a sob, sinking to my knees. It hadn't worked. I had, once again, been too late.

I was only dimly aware of Uta's arms around my shoulders, her own tears soaking my dress. I covered my face with my hands, trying to keep myself from crying. No…Anna would never forgive me…

The silence that followed in the room was almost unbearable. I'm not certain anyone quite knew what to do. The sun was filtering in through the windows, the color of gold painting the walls, the scent of the roses and fresh bread surrounded us as the birds sang traitorously in the trees outside.

Dante was dead.

I was in disbelief as Dr. Van der Zanden draped a white sheet over Dante's body. There was something beautiful about the way it draped over Dante's face, falling softly on his chest. That morning felt cold to me, but in a beautiful way, like a flower blooming, only to be felled by a breeze.

I sat back against the kitchen cupboards, just staring blankly at Dante's motionless body. My own disbelief screamed through my ears. I was expecting him to get up any moment now, to announce that he was a vampire, and he was thirsty for blood…

Nothing.

Uta was sobbing relentlessly beside me, clutching at my dress. I put my hand on her upper back, hanging my head low. I was beyond tears. I had tried in vain to save him, breaking the rules, attempting procreation.

Uta muttered a soft prayer, wiping her eyes as she rose to her feet.

I felt Augustijn take me by the elbow, leading me through the short hallway into the living room, turning up the slightly spiraled staircase. He was clearly agitated, but said nothing.

I hoped he wasn't too angry with me, or disappointed in me. My actions in the kitchen were selfish and desperate, I realized, but I didn't need to be told this. Not yet anyway.

He stopped at the head of the stairs, turning to me. His eyes seemed to be a little more sunken, and the grey in his stubble seemed more obvious than usual. I felt a tear streak down my cheek, and I looked away from his even gaze. He took my chin with his thumb.

"You have a long fight ahead of you now. I know you're not as young as you seem, but you must first understand that this is not your fault. Dante went out after Hans on his own volition. Dante knew the dangers, and he chose to save my son from that monster. Secondly, you must understand that you cannot protect everyone, especially not those you love. You surround yourself with strong willed people. They will do as they please."

"Dr. Van der Zanden, with all due respect, how can one say that it is not my fault when, had I come out of the forest sooner, something could have been done?"

"That vampire does as she pleases and answers to none, unless I am mistaken." He said, clasping his hands on my shoulders. "But Dante is dead, and Anna is headed for Romania via London. You haven't the time to be dawdling. You stay here and watch Hans carefully and make a plan, Uta and I will fetch the undertaker."

XxX

* * *

A/n: Sorry for the late update. I just moved into a new apartment and don't have internet yet :/


	16. The Aftermath

Hans was asleep when I opened the door to his bedroom. He was a cute little boy, no older than seven. His hair was the color of fresh cut straw, like his father's had once been, but he had Uta's sweet features and dark lashes. Hans didn't even stir when I sat down in the rocking chair by the window, staring out across the sunlit yard.

I didn't feel like moving, even when I saw Hans stir, opening one bleary eye.

"Vampire." He sprang into action immediately, grabbing the sharpened stick he had carried in the forest and plunging it into my chest with surprising strength.  
I stared at him blankly.

"You father said to behave. He's getting the undertaker." I said softly, pulling the stake out and transforming the hole into mist. "It'll take a lot more than that to kill me."

Hans stared at me with an endearingly stubborn expression that he had gotten from Augustijn, though it looked much more terrifying on the latter.  
"Why is papa getting the undertaker." He asked, picking at a bandage on his cheek.

"Don't pick, you'll open it up." I said, looking back out the window. I didn't want to tell him. I didn't want to tell myself.

"Who died, Vampire?"

I shook my head. "Hush. Go back to sleep."

I could smell Dante's remains downstairs. I wanted to go outside, to run away from it all, but a single sobering thought kept me rooted to the spot; my entire life I had spent running and hiding from things that threatened me, hurt me, or scared me. And that had killed Dante.

Now, more than ever, it was deathly important for me to stay and fight. I had to do things right from now on, but I, as certain as the sun rose and the stars fell, couldn't do it on my own.

Hans was looking at me, his sea-grey eyes watching my every move. He wasn't about to back away until he got the answers he wanted. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at him.

"Dante was attacked by that other vampire last night." I said softly. "And he passed away from the injuries this morning. We did all we could to save him. I'm sorry." I opened my eyes, swallowing my sorrow as much as I could.

Hans looked at me, his face stricken. "Why?"

I felt tears well up in my eyes as I looked at the boy. "Because everything has to end sometime. Dante had to go sooner than expected. It's just the way things are."  
Now, I never have been terribly talented in dealing with children, and when Hans burst into screaming sobs, I found myself clasping my hands over my ears in annoyance. It wasn't his fault, really, and he looked exactly how I felt, but a vampire's hearing is startlingly sensitive, and his screams would have been piercing to humans as well.

"Please! Don't do that!" I found myself clasping my hand over his mouth to muffle his screams. I could smell a vampire coming closer to the house, coming with the scent of Augustijn and Uta.

I felt something slimy against my hand and realized that Hans was licking me, trying to get me to let go. Tears and mucus were streaming down his face onto my cold, pale hand. I had never seen a human behave like this before, and I felt somewhat repulsed, but on the other hand, I felt a degree of respect for his display of emotion.

"Stop. It." I said impatiently, letting go and wiping my hand on my skirt. "That's disgusting. You stay up here. Your parents are coming back, and I need to go talk to them for a moment."

Without waiting for a response, I left him, running down the stars and through the kitchen, passing Dante's body with a tinge of pain in my chest.  
The Van der Zanden's looked bewildered as I crossed the garden to meet them, trampling their peas and carrots.

Between them was a man well over six foot, dressed head to toe in cheap, tacky black robes. His greasy hair was pulled back into a mousy blond ponytail and his eyes were pale and rather Germanic in shape. He was repulsive to me by all degrees, wreaking of Lillith. I was certain that The Van der Zanden's weren't aware, even with their vast experience as vampire hunters. This man was an early stage vampire. I had already seen red. She attacked one of mine, I would kill one of hers.

His faint, pink eyes looked startled as I ran towards them. He could certainly see me, but I was moving far too fast for him to counter.  
Without any word or warning to the Van der Zanden's, I struck, sinking my teeth into the man's filthy neck.

The Undertaker's blood was repulsive, stale, like bad meat, but it was blood, and far more fulfilling than anything I had ever drank. Augustijn tried to pull me off of him, but by the time he intervened, I had drained the stranger of blood.

He lay on the ground twitching, and I wiped my mouth, feeling ill. Augustijn slammed me against the ground, his gun pressed to my throat.

He was ready to behead me.

I hadn't expected my unlife to end so quickly, especially now that there was so much to do, and yet here Augustijn was, his full weight on my chest, and he was going to kill me.

"Augustijn!" Uta was pulling her husband off of me as the undertaker's body collapsed inward, seemingly rotting before our eyes before turning into a pile of dust.  
Augustijn heaved a sigh of relief, uncocking his gun and getting off of me, pulling me up after him.

"That was close, Integra."

XxX

Everyone avoided the kitchen like it was infected with disease. I charged myself with writing a letter addressed to Anna, care of her parent's address in London. Augustijn was kind enough to leave me in the privacy of his study. I didn't cry, I was surprised by this. I certainly felt like it, but it hardly seemed like a productive thing to do, especially after so many weeks of doing absolutely nothing.

I felt disgustingly sober as I sat there, trying to find the words to finish the letter. I found myself frequently standing up from the desk and pacing around the room. At noon, some men came and took Dante's body away on a stretcher. He was to be taken to London and buried in Highgate in a plot that belonged to me. It was a beautiful plot, with trees, a few, old-fashioned headstones near it. Young women liked to picnic on the open lawn nearby it; it was perfect for him, he would have loved it.

I stayed in the shadows of the curtains as I watched them leave. Dante's scent lingered in the house, carrying with it the very essence of sadness. He wasn't gong to come back, and I was choking up again.

I turned back to the desk, my shoulders slumping as I forced myself to conclude the letter. Once I had finished and sent the cursed thing off via owl, Augustijn came in to talk with me for a while, asking me what my plans were from here on.

I didn't know, and under his scrutinizing stare, I found it difficult to formulate a plan. My judgment was clouded by sadness and grief, and an undertone of anger, which manifested itself as a dull buzzing feeling.

"It's okay to ask for advise, Integra. No one will think ill of you." Augustijn said softly, his Dutch accent making his words seem just a little bit softer. "Nor is it a sin to ask for help. You are not all-powerful, you will need help."

"Thank you." Was all I could say as I stared at the endless piles of books. Dr. Van der Zanden's study brought me back to Dumbledore's office from the 1940's, all of the unanswered questions that seemed to rise like bubbles in water.

"I…we need your help, Doctor." I said quietly, leaning on my elbow and looking at him through tired eyes. "You see, before I left, Anna and I were putting together pieces of a puzzle. But we were groping blindly in the dark, much like we are now."

"I can assure you, Integra, we are many things. Blind in the dark is not one of them." Augustijn said with an undertone of the utmost confidence. "I will tell you what I know, and you will tell me what you know, and together, we will illuminate this puzzle. At the core, that is what the Illuminati are."

"I keep thinking back to something Dante said when I first met him." I said slowly. "He said he wondered about the beginnings of vampires. I wonder that, too. I didn't care before, because I didn't think it was anything that would effect me, but now…I have a feeling that…this would all be explained if we knew more about it."

"Ah, Integra, that is something that even the light of Illuminati could not shine upon." He said, withdrawing his pendant from the folds of his shirt and lifting it so the light caught the jade at the center of the all-seeing eye. "It boils down to individual faith, but I can tell you, Integra, that the Truth of Lillith is becoming more and more evident as time passes."

"Lillith." I said, sitting up a little straighter in the wingback chair, recollection hitting me. "Dante's mother, Signora Luchia. She said the name 'Lillith' before she died…Lillith was there when the Count was Turned." I clasped my hand over my mouth, spotting the strange look on Augustijn's face.

"That is certainly intriguing, if not disturbing. Lillith, according to The Book of Enoch, was the original bride of Adam. Created not of or by him, but with him. She was, in every way, his equal. But when Adam refused to acknowledge this, she grew angry, and for the sin of anger, she was cast from the Garden of Eden."

"How is this relevant to vampires? Why would Signora Luchia bring this up?"

"They have fallen from the eyes of God; Lillith's spirit wanted to avenge the wrongs committed on her by the world, so she began to drink the blood of the children of Adam and Eve, and eventually, the blood of her own Children of Darkness. She became a demon in and of herself. As for Dante's mother, the Signora, I do not understand why the name Lillith would be significant to her. Lillith is a little-known legend in the wizarding world, but I am aware that there was a conflict in Italy, concerning the Sanguarians."

"I was informed that the Illuminati had been contacted. In fact, they pursued Dante and I into Northern France. That scar on his hand was caused by an attack on us in Italy."

Dr. Van der Zanden went quiet, adjusting his tie, his lips curving downward in a frown. Was it just my imagination, or was he feeling a small degree of guilt?

"In any organization you will have people who…start rifts, petty political issues and ridiculous feuds start wars that can break up an organization. I am Illuminati, my father and my father's father, and his before that have all been Illuminati. And so will be my son. An organization as old as the Illuminati has many factions, like the Gormagon and the Freemasons.

"Some believe in upholding the knowledge of the ages, some believe in ridding the world of all abominations against God. Like religion, one man's interpretation of purpose can start an entirely new sect. Recently, some of the more military-minded members have taken it upon themselves to destroy all vampires, regardless of political affiliation. Getting the go-ahead from the government is a way to legitimize the bloodshed. And the money fuels their legitimacy." He looked at me fully, dropping his hands to his thighs. "I admit, I was sympathetic to their cause until I came to Hogwarts. I understand now that humans and vampires can co-exist in a peaceful state, and that vampires can be a great asset to both Muggle and Wizard society, and without a doubt to the Illuminati."

I nodded, frowning slightly and brushing a stray strand of hair away from my face.

"I'm relieved that…you understand we are not all evil."

Augustijn laughed nervously. "Let us hope that it does not get me kicked out of the Illuminati."

I nodded, forcing a smile, but suddenly feeling terribly sad. He was putting his entire career and family on the line just to help Anna and I. Dante died a horrible death because of my cowardice, and Anna was in danger. So many lives were upset just because of my existence…

"What are you thinking, Integra?"

"I was thinking about Lillith." I lied, looking him in the eye.

"Ah, we have digressed, haven't we?" He took a deep breath, crossing his knees. "There's a discrepancy in the legend; Lillith's sin was wrath and pride, but so were Adam's. Why would a God, being as just and merciful as claimed." I noticed his tired eyes raise to a small cross mounted on the wall. "Why would he cast out one child, but not the other?"

"Parents play favorites, maybe the God of the legend isn't as merciful as they claim, or maybe the legend is just that; a legend."

"That is what I thought, initially. But, and you will not like this, Integra, when I fought the Count as a young man, I found out something about him. You know as well as I do he was a perfect gentleman, good or evil as he was. He, like many gentlemen, would gladly oblige one in a story, even while doing battle. Thinking I was to die, he told me of how he became a vampire."

I felt my hand begin to tremble, my body now surging with excitement and frustration. I knew this story already, to a degree, but I wanted to hear it from someone else.

"Wallachia in the 15th century was not the Romania we know today. It was wracked by war and soaked in blood. There was not a single tract of land that wasn't bathed in the blood of the Turks or the Walachians. When he was a boy, Vlad was sent to live and study under the Turks. Under their care he was tortured, beaten, and raped. Upon his return to Wallachia, he was betrayed by the Boyars. His father was slaughtered and his older brother was brutally tortured before being buried alive. His younger brother, Radu, was the one who sold him out, all for the favor of his lover, the Sultan of Turkey. "

"He told you all of this?"

Augustijn shook his head. "No. All of what I am telling you came from the history books. The next part is what he told me; that, after suffering the utmost betrayal of his men, he was approached by a beautiful woman, who proposed to him great power at a heavy price."

"Lillith."

"I can only deduce it was her... Out of desperation, he accepted. Needless to say, he became very nearly undefeatable, as do most of Lillith's children. You see, he was born of vengeance. Lillith hates the world of men, and very nearly hates the world, therefore any havoc she can wreck keeps her amused. She's Eris."

"And why would Lillith wish to go after Dante? Just more chaos to amuse her?"

"The nearest I can tell, to draw you out and gauge your power. Until you stood up to her in the end, Dante had a chance at continuing on the earth as a vampire. He was the bargaining chip against you."

I sat back in the chair, closing my eyes. As much as I didn't want to, I knew I had to hear it.

"But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Haven't you figured it out by now, Integra?" He asked, standing up and beginning to pace. "A Faustian bargain cannot be broken; Lillith didn't give Vlad his kingdom without a price: and she has apparently come to claim it."

"But Dracula had others…I'm certain of it."

"But none he loved as much as you." Augustijn said, turning with such passion that I found myself jerking backwards in shock. "You look surprised, Integra!" He laughed.

"Stop." I hissed, clenching the arms of the chair with such ferocity that my fingernails nearly punctured the upholstery. "Don't you think that it's bad enough… I could have done something…"

"Don't think you ever had a choice, Integra. In the long run, your actions were much better than the alternative. Saving your honor as well as Dante's…" He trailed off, his eyes staring out the window. He shook his head, sitting back down and looking at me appraisingly. "You're the most powerful vampire in the British colonies. I don't know if it's by occupational default, or by your talents. I think that's why Lillith singled you out, and your vampire lineage is certainly not anything to sneer at. You need to hunt down Anna. We don't have much time to make an educated decision. She will be safe if you are by her side and you will be safest beside hers. I believe that together, you two have the power to confront Lillith on a grander scale, or at least find a more effective solution to the problem."

I stood up, crossing my arms over my chest, my stomach twisting into knots from excitement and frustration. Each moment that passed was keeping me from Anna.

I leaned against the window sill, my back resting against the heavy brocade curtain. "Then, I guess I should go find Anna. I'll start in London and work from there."  
"How are you going to find Anna in London? Not only does the Ministry think you are deceased, you can't risk being seen."

"I don't know. I honestly don't know. I'll go down to London with Dante's body and from there…I have her parents address, but Anna may have moved out, I don't know. I wouldn't put it past her."

Augustijn nodded. "The train leaves in an hour. Uta, Hans, and I are all going for the funeral.

"Then you told the authorities it was a vampire attack?" I asked, resting my fingertips against my eyebrow.

"I had to. I told them it was the undertaker. He's been a problem for the young women of Hogsmead, and Dante is…was well known around here for his chivalry." He stood up. "And what better to draw information on vampires out of the Ministry than a member of the Illuminati?"

"What are you thinking?"

"The Ministry is asking me to replace you. I'm taking the job. I'll notify the Illuminati that you are not to be touched, and that you're planning on stopping Lillith. No doubt there will be a few glory hounds out there that will try to stop you for their own benefit, but having a hundred Illuminati after you is nothing like having a thousand."

I fell silent. I had never said anything about stopping Lillith. I was not by any means powerful enough to counter a vampire of her caliper, but that didn't mean that I didn't want revenge.

On top of that, I couldn't let Anna get caught in the crossfire between Lillith and I, and no doubt, she would.

Lillith had already killed Dante because of me.

XxX

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A/n: Herein our heroin falls prey to guilt...

Oh hey look, it's a Tuesday Update! Thanks for the review on my last chapter. It much appreciate it :)


	17. Anew

The trip to London via muggle train was long, and I found myself growing impatient with each mile that passed, though I was thankful for the time to think. It was nice, though, to not have people staring at me or whispering behind their hands. To muggles, I just looked like another one of those ghostly, black-haired teens.

Hans sat beside me, fighting constantly, occasionally slipping out to run up and down the halls with other kids, only to be dragged back by Uta and chastised. I didn't mind, though. I found myself growing fond of the Van der Zanden's, surprised that a nuclear family could function so well.

I passed the time reading Dracula, Anna's notes written neatly on small squares of brightly colored paper that were mysteriously sticking to the pages they were associated with. It was like seeing into her brilliant mind, each note a clue.

I felt irritated at the portrayal of Vlad. While he was, in fact, the gentlemen that was described, my experience with him had been considerably less uncanny. I however, found some merit with Mina Harker. I could see why the Count had loved her so; she was remarkably like Anna, though my Anna was far superior, of course.

After reading Anna's notes, I began to make my own in my notebook, raising questions that I felt were overlooked. Augustijn seemed curious about my work, but said nothing, only watching me from over the top of his newspaper.

About ten miles from London, the train screeched to an unscheduled halt, a tremendous roar ripping through the vehicle as the cars slammed together, the car tilting slightly as it slipped off of the rails. Hans grabbed my arm, clinging to me to keep from falling. I put my arms around him, shielding him from falling debris. We could hear the terrified screams of passengers out in the hallway, alarms sounding as lights flickered on an off.

All I could think of was Dante's body, bumped and jostled by the impact. I choked up slightly.

"I'm going to go see what's going on."

"Stay here, Integra." Augustijn warned, standing up.

"No. I need to check on Dante."

I shook Hans off, wrenching the door open and setting off down the cramped hallway. People were out walking around, the smell of smoke filling the cabins. I could see the conductors going from compartment to compartment, checking for injuries and evacuating the cars.

I approached one, a woman, asking her what had happened.

"Ay, Miss, ye' woldn' beleve' me if Ah told ye'." She said, her voice that of hushed excitement. "Some bloke jumped righ' in fron' o' the engine! The ol' thing is busted up 'orribly!"

"Is that so?" I felt a prickle of fear run through me. "Is there anything else? What happened after that?"

"E' plum walked aw'y, like 'e wos superman 'er something', er so they say. Ah'm thinkin' the driver done 'ad 'imself a nip, if ye' know what Ah'm sayin'."

I felt light headed as I thanked her and ran back to the compartment, poking my head in the doors.

"You wouldn't believe…" I stopped mid sentence, an acrid stench curling towards my nose. "I can say without uncertainty that the train was stopped by a vampire."

Augustijn stood up, reaching for his cane, in which his sword was hidden. "Stay here with Hans, Uta."

"No, you all stay here. You need to defend the train if the need arises. I'm going out to meet it."

I heard a deafening crash at the end of the train and turned my head to see the door had been ripped off it's hinges. Steam filled the cab and I slammed the door behind me, retrieving my gun from the overhead.

Dr. Van der Zanden drew his sword from out of seemingly nowhere and Uta recovered her sliding arm from a garter holster beneath her skirt.

"You guys need to take cover. It's coming."

"No, Integra, this time we will fight this. You take Hans and get out of here." Augustijn said sternly, his sword pointed directly at the door, ready to hew at whatever came through.

"Papa, I don't want to go with that dirty _Vampir_!"

"Hush, Hans. Hold on to me." I lifted him to my shoulders, breaking the window with a fist and transforming as quickly as I could, taking flight into the heavy clouds that hung over London.  
He was sobbing as I circled overhead, just barely out of the vampire's detection. I could hear gunshots down below, and I hoped Hans' hearing wasn't as keen as my own. I didn't want him to think about the situation his parents were in any more than he had to.

It was then that I made an executive decision; I took Hans into the city, away from the wreckage of the train, into Highgate cemetery.

My mausoleum behind Egyptian avenue was locked and barred by the Ministry, but I had no trouble breaking the locks. Hans was reluctant to enter, frightened at the sight of my dust-covered coffin and the human skull that sat atop my ancient bookcase. Vampires had a tendency to make their mausoleums somewhat cushy, though I admit that mine was rather bare at the moment.

"I know you're scared." I said softly, shutting the door behind me. "But nothing can hurt you here, I promise. This is a house, and vampires cannot enter the houses of others without an invitation." I said, dusting off my coffin.

"It's dark in here, and smells rotten."

"I know. There's nothing I can do about it."

I moved the skull from my bookcase, hiding it in the wall so he wouldn't have to look at it.  
"You stay here. Stay quiet and don't open the door to anyone." I said, sitting him down on top of my coffin and handing him a wooden stake. "I'm going to go help your mother and father. We'll be back soon."

"No…I don't want to be alone here." He leapt off the top of the coffin, running to the door. I realized then that the mausoleum must have been in total darkness to his living eyes.

"Hans, I promise you will be safe."

I slipped out the door, shutting it behind me. I could hear him screaming, and out of desperation, I barred the door.

I felt remorse for doing that to the boy as I took to the air again, hoping to avoid the other vampires of Highgate; they needn't know I was there. They were dogs of the ministry, not blind to their plight, but willing to put up with it for the sakes of their unlife.

I could smell smoke as I neared the train, the rain beating down on me with such force I found it difficult to fly. The air was cold, even to me, and my wet hair was sticking to my wings like a great black spider web, clinging awkwardly to my back and thighs.

I swooped down closer to the train, the sirens of the emergency bus' cutting through the misty haze.

I could smell other vampire faintly over the scent of oil and smoke as I landed atop the train, right where I had left Uta and Augustijn. I could smell blood on the train, a lot of blood, something I hadn't smelled when I'd left.

I swung down into the cab, the window broken out. Worry filled me to the core. The vampire was outside the door, but I couldn't smell the Van der Zanden's beyond just faint traces, residuals that all humans left in their wake.

I took a deep breath, wrenching the door open and stepping out into the corridor. A dark haired man was kneeling on the floor, his tongue lapping at a pool of red on the short, green carpet. He looked disgusting and pathetic desperately lapping at the spilled blood. Though he seemed to be enjoying every minute of it.

"Get up, you swine." I snarled, cocking the gun and pressing it to his skull. It lifted it's head, an empty eye socket looking back at me from beneath a loosened white bandage, the other a deep, bloody crimson.

I let out a cry of disgust and anger, firing the gun straight into his skull. "Get away from me!"

The man flew back, hitting the wall with so much force, there was a bloody outline on the corridor wall.

"Ah, Signorina…why must you hurt me so?" The man sat up, his head reduced to mere fragments and gobbets of flesh, a black shroud of mist seemingly pulling the bits back together into a familiar face.  
Damnit, I needed fire to defeat this one…

"Stop it! Go back to hell!" I fired again, straight into chest. He slammed back against the wall, raising his hand and crossing himself. I took a step back. This was impossible.

I turned my back, running to the end of the car and wrenching the steel panel loose, rivets flying everywhere. I could hear the other vampire chasing me, but I slammed the panel back into place, holding it as tightly as I could manage. I heard a telltale 'thud' and lifted the panel back up, peering inside the train.

The man rubbed his head, blood pouring down the side of his face. "If you really want me to go to hell, Signorina, I will. I would do anything for a beautiful woman."

"Cut it out, Dante."

XxX

Needled to say, I was shocked. It didn't seem logical that Dante would be a vampire; the turnaround time had been far too long.

Every vampire who's creation I had heard tell of had been nearly immediate, and save for Lucy Westerna of Dracula fame, prolonged Turning was very nearly unheard of.

It was illogical, but not impossible.

As he came closer, I could smell the stale blood and found myself in a severe degree of disbelief.

His once black eye was now a deep shade of crimson, and his cheeks were more hollowed and jutting slightly at the bone, creating a strong-looking face. His lips were fuller and slightly redder, pulling into a natural pout that didn't suit his carefree, gentle personality, and two sharp teeth created dimples on either side of his lower lip. Dante's new visage, which had been quite comely before, was transformed into a dashing, dangerous example of how a vampire should look. There was something about his shorter hair and missing eye that added a certain degree of intrigue, like the men on the cover of those trashy romance novels Anna was always reading.

He flung his arms around my shoulders in glee, smearing me with blood as he embraced me, kissing my cheeks and forehead endlessly.

I was suddenly painfully aware of my nudity, though there was nothing there to be ashamed of.

"I thought I were gone forever, Integra." His arms contracted dangerously around my ribs, and I had to forcibly push him off of me. "I cannot express my happiness." He stopped, his crimson eye traveling slowly down my body and back up again, settling on my chest.

"What are you doing?" I said, narrowing my eyes and crossing my arms.

"You must mean serious business if you use that form."

I closed my eyes, turning him around so he wouldn't keep staring at my chest.

"This is serious business. We need to find the Van der Zanden's."

"Did you find Hans?"

"Yes, he's fine. I locked him in my crypt…" I said with an unintentional casualness, taking some clothes from an open suitcase and transforming back. Dante turned, giving me a look of absolutely perfect horror.

"It's not like that…we have to find the Van der Zanden's…the train crash…I took Hans away because…" I trailed off, giving him a scathing look in exchange for his look of horror. "You caused the train crash, didn't you?" I asked, zipping the trousers. They were a bit small for me…

"No, the train crashing woke me up. I was just lying there in the dark, and when the coffin fell I was able to push it open…"

I nodded. "Then it could be any one of the vampires of London, though I don't know of anyone strong enough to stop a train like that…thank god, though…oh, Dante…you could have been buried like that."

"What about the Lady?" Dante asked, as I climbed up to the top of the train, looking out across the rainy landscape. "Could she have caused the crash?"

"You mean…"

"Don't say her name." He warned, leaping onto the roof beside me.

"That Sow." I said instead, flattening my voice. "The engineer told one of the conductors that it was male…"

"I smell them…over there…" Dante pointed to a set of flashing lights, simultaneously changing the subject; a bus was waiting in the poring rain, police and paramedics going from car to car, looking for survivors. I could make them out among the paramedics, Uta helping move the wounded. Augustijn had a large cut on his forehead, and a young man in a uniform was taking notes from him.

"We have to find a way to let them know that Hans is safe." I said quietly, sitting down on the roof of the train. "Go get back in your coffin…"

"No." He said, sitting down beside me. "I…despise being in there."

"We can't let the paramedics get their mitts on you, they'd have a field day. It's the safest way for you to get to Highgate without getting noticed…" I stopped, falling silent and staring up at the rainy sky. A dove was fluttering along through the rain, the sight of it making my stomach lurch. Was it Lillith?

"I understand…" He said quietly.

"We'll have a long talk when we get you safely to London…" I said quietly, remembering what the Count had told me to do upon Dante's turning. My heart ached as I felt my gun in my hand. I couldn't kill Dante…

Dante put his hand on my shoulder, his grip far stronger in death than in life.

"I'll do what I can when I reach London. Please do stay in your coffin until I come for you." I said, my voice cracking above the soft rattle of the falling rain.

Dante nodded and left without a word, climbing down the side of the car. It was hard to believe he was a vampire. After all the grief and all the tears, here he was, undead and with us, and possibly more powerful than myself.

But when we found Anna, would she forgive me? Would she blame me for his death and Turning?

I stood up, leaping down onto the raised gravel bed of the train track, walking down the steep incline towards the buss'.

The mud slipped beneath my feet as I ran towards the bus, wiping the rain off of my face.

Uta was the first to meet me, grasping my forearm and dragging me aside, pretending to check my vitals.

"Where's Hans?"

"I took him to Highgate… He's scared, but safe…" I said quietly, looking around. "What happened?"

"Augie went back to the cargo hold and the roof caved…there was a big fight between two vampires…" Uta looked over her shoulder, her voice dropping lower. "Augie is lucky to be alive…He was knocked out…"

"Thank god he wasn't killed." I said, grabbing her arm. "Uta, I saw Dante. He's a vampire…"

"Oh, Integra…" Uta's sea-colored eyes filled with tears. "He's dead…"

"No he's not. You'll see, I promise. Our plans to go to Highgate must continue…I'm going to go back to London and keep an eye on Hans."

"We'll be there this evening." Uta whispered, leading me out of the perimeter of emergency vehicles, her very tone bearing the airs that she was talking to someone mentally infirm. "If Augie is fit to travel…I'll contact someone to pick him up if we can't…"

"But he looks fine, he's sitting up and talking…"

"You know how fragile we are, and at Augie's age…I just want to make sure he's safe. He has a weak heart…"

"I understand completely." I said with a smile, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll go get Hans. Let us know as soon as you arrive in London."

She nodded as I transformed into mist, evading the rain completely as I moved noiselessly through the air back to the city.

XxX

* * *

A/n: He's alive, no he's dead, no he's alive again..wait, ummmm...pasta?

sorry for late updates...review please?


	18. Out of the Frying Pan

I wrenched open the door to my crypt only to find Hans sobbing in the corner, his voice barely rising above the sound of the rain outside and the timid dripping sound of a roof leaking in the corner.

"Hans, it's me…your parents are fine. I just spoke to them." I lied. He didn't need to worry about his father at the moment.

"Go away."

I stared at him from the doorway, one eyebrow cocked. I don't believe I have, or could ever, fully mention how awkward I am around children.

Seeing Hans crouching in the corner like that reminded me of my own childhood, the night my mother had been taken to St. Mungo's. I shook my head, fighting off the memory with as much will as I could muster at this point.

Seeing Hans cowering in the darkness like that reminded me of the overwhelming feeling I felt in the weeks and months that followed her departure. We had been about the same age, and I knew that being locked in a dark crypt and not knowing about his parent's well-being must have been nothing less than maddening, as I am certain there were times I had gone mad myself.

I stepped gingerly closer to Hans, offering a hand. "I'll take you to a soda parlor." I said, forcing a my voice to sound 'nice'. I wondered if I was trying too hard.

Reluctantly, he placed one small hand in my own, standing up and drying his eyes.

"What's a soda parlor?"

XxX

I admit I had an ulterior motive behind taking Hans out for soda, or whatever kids had these days.

I had never been to London's East End before, despite living in the damned city for nearly my entire unlife, and I wanted to get a good idea of Anna's possible whereabouts. Unfortunately, London is such a large city, I had little to no clue where to begin, save for conversations I had had with her that were carefully filed away in my memories, each more precious than the last.

Hans and I walked hand in hand, my course black hair carefully pulled into a knot in the back of my head and my bangs swept sloppily to the side. To those who were casually observing, I hoped I appeared to be his foreign governess. I couldn't be too careful in London. My face was far too familiar anymore.

We stopped at a small restaurant close to Hyde Park where I bought Hans a bowl of ice cream. This seemed to pacify him while I watched the street, hoping for some sign of the Van der Zanden's or their like and avoiding the Ministry. In this situation, the Ministry's aversion to Muggles was playing in my favor.

I found a map of London in a travelers pamphlet, looking over the street names and hoping to find her parent's address, or at least a vague idea of where to start.

Tonight, Lord willing, I would start with teaching Dante to hunt, and tomorrow…we would find Anna, providing she hadn't set off for Romania yet.

"Are you looking for Frau Anna?" Hans asked, leaning over the map, dripping strawberry slime all over the map of Highgate.

"Hans, sit down."

"I can help you." He said frankly, moving around the side of the table to sit beside me. "Papa made me study maps of every major city in Britain before me moved here." He paused for a second to take a bite out of his ice cream. I have to admit, I was impressed with Hans. He was dreadfully serious, even by my standards, but he was well educated.

"We're looking for London's East end, by St. Mary-le-Bow's church…"

"Here, Watling street…" He said frankly, placing one sticky finger on the map and tapping next to the icon for the church. "Anna mentioned a Japanese restaurant there."

"She was raised around there…if we go there tomorrow…"

"But what if she leaves tonight?" Hans made a grab for a paper napkin, the thin fibers sticking to his fingers.

"Go wash your hands. We'll talk about it when you come back, right?"

He nodded, leaping off the chair and disappearing into the room marked with the figure of a man.

I could smell the vampires of Highgate, coming and going from the cemetery, sleeping deep underground, some undisturbed for centuries.

I sighed as the waiter came around to fill my glass, giving me a strange look when he saw I hadn't drank any water.

I ignored him, staring out the window at the passing cars. I had to come up with a plan of action to stop Lillith, but could I do it alone? I could enlist the vampires of Highgate, teach them to fight, but could I really wake the dead? Could they help me? Or would they side with Lillith?

I could ask the Ministry…

But that would be grotesquely odd: a dead vampire coming back, prattling on nonsense about some ancient vampire out to get us all. I wasn't even certain what her threat was, save for a personal vendetta carried out on my clan. No doubt the Ministry would just as soon kill me.

It was foolish to get involved, and by extension, involve my clan in a stupid clan-war.

As an Englishwoman, I was more civilized than that. And we would no doubt lose, we were outnumbered and overpowered. But I was in this, whether I liked it or not.  
Hans returned from the water closet, sitting down beside me.

"I was thinking, Frau Integra…." He began, but I stopped him with a look. Something wasn't sitting right with me, and it wasn't the fact that this was the first time he had addressed me with any degree of respect.

"Hans…" I shoved him under the table, crouching beside him as the glass shattered on the large front window, scattering all over the floor and splintering the antique furnishings.

"Out the back." I pointed as the breaking glass was followed by fire. Hans looked startled, unable to react with a clear head as I half carried, half dragged him out into the back alley.

Bad idea.

We had run straight into the arms of the Illuminati.

XxX

* * *

A/n: I only uploaded this part becuase it's the girl I based Anna off of's 21st birthday.

Even though she isn't reading this: Happy Birthday, my dear! You are loved dearly, though you may not believe so!


	19. Dante's Divine Comedy

As Augustijn had mentioned before, any time one organization becomes too large, schisms occur and factions or sects are born. Luckily, Hans and I found ourselves in the hands of Augustijn's comrades. Somehow, Uta had gotten a call out from the Hospital and sent them to pick up Hans and I.

Unfortunately, the ones who had attacked the restaurant had been part of a lesser sect who had heard that I had survived. The people who died in the explosion were just petty casualties.  
It made me sick. What if it had been Anna in that restaurant? What if they attacked her? If the Ministry could find out about Anna and I's friendship, what was stopping an organization known for knowing everything about everything? What if they attacked Anna and I wasn't there to save her?

I shook my head, grim thoughts racing through my head. Before I could even begin to stop Lillith, I had to put a hold on Anna's activities and keep her from going anywhere at all, and after that was done, sever ties with her permanently.

It was far too dangerous for her to even know me at this point, but the desire to have her with me in this fight was overwhelming. I had to at least warn her, to at the very least ensure her safety through informing her of the situation.

I sat in the Van der Zanden's high-end hotel room, waiting for further instruction, my mind straying beyond the pompously elaborate venue.

Romania: Moldavia, Wallachia, and Transylvania. Even for someone like myself, that was dangerous territory, and for Anna, as sharp…no, as obscenely brilliant as she was, it would be suicide.  
I felt an abrupt pain in my chest as I suddenly recalled something she had told me, the sharp details flooding my mind or the winter before she met me.

Tearfully, one bittersweet night, she had told me of her stint in a Muggle hospital and how she had given up on the world. It hurt me to think of what I could have lost without even knowing.  
I sat in silence, staring at the paneled walls, sucking on a blood packet one of the men had so thoughtfully set out for me. Naturally I had inspected it beforehand, but I was certain by now that these specific people no longer meant me any harm.

It seemed that Dr. Van der Zanden had been writing to the Illuminati: essays, reports, and letters telling how cooperating with vampires could benefit the Illuminati.

And Anna had helped, writing her own essays and letters on the matter.

I was amazed to say the least, especially after reading several of them that had been left out on the marble top table.

I knew Anna was exceptional, that there was an incurably sharp mind behind those soft green eyes, and her essays seemed only to prove my hypothesis.  
There were a few notes accompanying her neat handwriting, slight corrections in theories or annotations for further clarification. Dr. Van der Zanden seemed to have taken her on as an apprentice of sorts.

I sighed, tossing the empty blood packet into a nearby rubbish bin and leaning back in the chair.

I have no idea how long I had been trapped in this gilded prison, but my patience was wearing thin and I was growing more than irritated. Each moment that passed was a breath of danger, each second that ticked by was keeping me from Anna. I had to protect her.

The bedroom door opened and Hans bounded in, appearing quite relaxed, his clothing rumpled from sleep.

"Do you need a coffin to sleep?" He asked suddenly, grabbing a piece of fruit and sitting down on the plush velvet couch across form me. His stocking feet were swinging from the seat, narrowly missing the edge of the tea table.

"No…not always…" I said, sitting up a little straighter.

"Then why didn't you sleep? You look tired."

I shook my head. "I'm worried about your father, and Anna…"

Hans nodded, poking holes into the apple with his fingernails. The room was uncomfortably silent and I rose, looking out the window over the darkened, rain-soaked city.

"Do you miss Dante?"

My shoulders fell and I shook my head, turning with a smile.

"Can you keep a secret, Hans? Just between you and I?"

Han's eyes widened and he nodded, leaning towards me. I sat back down on the couch, next to Hans.

"What's the secret?" He asked excitedly, bouncing slightly.

"Dante's a vampire now. I saw him after the train crash. But you have to promise me you won't tell anyone."

"I promise." Hans said solemnly, his grey eyes wide. He looked terribly like Uta despite his father's fair coloration.

"Good. Because tomorrow morning, Dante and I are going to go get Anna…"

"But what about me? I want to go to."

I sat back, pulling my hair from the knot at the back of my neck and twisting it nervously back in place.

"When you're papa goes out on a dangerous job, he wouldn't take you with, would he?"

"But that's different. Papa's old."

I almost started laughing as the door opened.

"Oh, Hans! Thank god you're safe!" Uta dropped her purse on the floor by the door, running to scoop her son up in her arms. After a brief exchange in Dutch, Uta sent Hans in to take a bath, sitting down in front of me.

"How's Dr. Van der Zanden."

"They're keeping him for observation." She said in a tired voice, wiping a few strands of graying hair away from her forehead. "Oh, I'm so glad you've kept Han safe. He seems to like you, Integra."  
I sat back, smoothing the black fabric of my trousers against my legs.

"You're about to ask about Dante?" Uta said, looking up at me from her own lap. "He's been put in cold storage until the funeral."

"Is there any way you could get him out of there tonight?" I was concerned: if he froze, it would take a while for him to thaw safely…and he was impulsive, he would no doubt break something.  
"Oh, Integra…he's dead." Uta said softly, shaking her graying curls.

"If you don't believe me then come down and see with your own eyes." I said, crossing my ankles. Uta sighed, hanging her head and looking far more tired than before.

"Very well, Integra, if it will make you feel better…"

"We can wait a little while if you like. I know you've had a long day, and the dead can wait."

XxX

The cold storage room on the basement of the hotel was dark, but it didn't trouble me. Uta walked behind me, bundled in a thick fur coat, her breath clinging to her face and the flashlight in her hand shaking gently.

Hans had been put to bed, and one of Uta's colleagues, an American man with a large nose and kind eyes, had been left to keep an eye on the boy.

"Do you know which way…?" I couldn't smell him there in the darkness, worry wracking my brain as my eyes searched through the gloom, occasionally blinded by the beam of Uta's flashlight.  
"Over there." she pointed into the farthest corner, Dantes white lacquered coffin shining in the darkness.

I raced over, Dante's scent faintly lingering around the silver latches. I paused for a second, feeling dizzy with excitement as I waited for Uta to catch up with me.

"Well, then, lets get on with it." I said, my fingers curling around the latches. Uta swallowed hard, a girlish blush crossing her cheeks as her blood roared with adrenaline; she was just as excited as I was as her fingers curled around the other latch.

"Yes, lets…"

She took a deep breath as we flung the coffin open. Dante was laying inside, the white lining stained with a slight amount of blood.

"Dante, get up." I reached in, poking him gently with my fingertip. Uta swatted my hand away, her face contorted in horror.

"Stop please!"

Dante's single, crimson eye flew open and he smiled, sitting up.

"Signorina, it's about time you came for me!"

"Mein Gott!" Uta screamed, falling back against a crate of frozen vegetables, clutching her chest. Dante sprang out of the coffin, landing lightly on his feet and extending a hand to Uta.

"My apologies, Signora Uta…I didn't mean to startle you." He said, helping her up. I leaned back against the open coffin. He was really hamming up the vampire thing, and for some reason, it amused me greatly.

"Dante!" She embraced him, sobbing against his chest. "Oh, Dante, I can't believe it! Look at you!"

He smiled, looking down at Uta. "You're lips are blue, let us go where it is warmer."

I followed them out of the darkness, Dante talking rapidly to Uta in Dutch, gesturing wildly with his hands as he often did when he was impassioned with something.

It seemed that Uta was sort of a mother figure to him, and he was positively giddy as we waited for the elevators.

"Signora Uta, how is Hans?"

"He's fine, a little traumatized. He's had a full few days…"

"And Dr. Augustijn?"

"He has a small degree of head trauma…he's in the hospital for observation overnight."

I tugged lightly on Dante's sleeve, trying to get his attention, but he was so absorbed with Uta that even when we got to the hotel room, I remained nearly invisible from the conversation.  
Eventually Uta went to bed, leaving Dante and I alone in the small living area. Dante looked quite calm, though his lack of blood was making him seem more gaunt.

"What do we do now? Wait?"

"We talk now, Dante. I have questions."

I crossed my knees, folding my hands and smiling at him darkly. The rain railed the windows behind the heavy draperies, the neon glow of the city below cutting through the mist.  
Dante stood up, the suit the undertaker put him in fitting well, but looking out of place. He stuck his hands in his pockets, looking down at me, his face that of barely contained excitement. He was going to be a bloodthirsty one, I had seen it before.

XxX

Dante and I strolled through the rain arm in arm, Dante singing out loud in Italian, skipping a step every once in a while. To say he was happy would have been an understatement: he was positively scatty.

We had stopped by a novelty store, purchasing a leather eye patch to cover his empty socket. I thought it made him look like a pirate, but he rather liked how it looked, so I said nothing.

"It's so wonderful to be a vampire, Integra!" he exclaimed, breaking away from my arm and grasping a street sign, spinning himself around the base as his song reached a crescendo. "Why didn't you tell me it was so wonderful!"

I shook my head, my wet bangs sticking to my forehead. "It's not…I guess…"

"I can see things, hear things…" He paused, inhaling, his chest puffing out beneath the wool of his suit. "I can smell…wonderful things…things that I never would have imagines existed!"

"Stop screwing around, Dante. You'll learn quickly it's not all fun and games."

"Let us play tonight." He said taking both my hands and leading me towards a neon-lit café. "Grant us some sport tonight, and tomorrow we can worry."

"Tonight I will still be worried." I said coldly, my shoes becoming soaked as he led me carelessly through a puddle beneath a stoplight. "Tonight I'm here to teach; you need to lean to hunt, to take victims, you need to lean your limits."

"How hard can it be?" He purred, striking a pose on the street corner, reaching a hand towards me. "We'll be together forever."

I stopped, glaring at him in the buzzing lights. "Not if you're going to be this annoying for all eternity."

He paused, striding towards me and placing one palm on each side of my face, leaning down to look into my eyes. "Signorina Integra, let us be alive for tonight!"

I scoffed and looked away. He was being annoyingly affectionate tonight. He had always been a little bit like this, but tonight it was too much for me to handle.

"Fine…"

He took my arm as we reached a café, the tables under the awning packed despite the pouring London rain.

"There are multiple hunting techniques, each depending on your needs at the moment. Avoid drunk people." I said, gesturing to a man who was drinking a beer rather shamelessly. "The alcohol makes us sick…you can pick a loner in an alleyway, that's the easiest, or…chat someone up and lure them away. As a general rule, people are nice, they want to interact with others, even if they think they want to be alone."

Dante had left my side before I had even finished and was already chatting up a couple of girls in glittering cocktail dress'. I stopped beneath the awning, glancing around. He didn't even notice me anymore. I wasn't sure which was more annoying; too much attention from him or none at all.

I felt a tone of annoyance at his disregard for the 'rules'. He wasn't even going to listen to me, but I didn't feel comfortable leaving him out on his own in our current situation, so I sat down in a dark corner beneath the window, the deep green foliage in the window boxes providing a subtle cover.

After a half an hour of watching Dante, I was growing annoyed. He was flirting, but it was obvious he wasn't going to go in for the kill.

I sighed, crossing my knees beneath the table. Suddenly, Dante got up, glancing in my direction, the girl in the turquoise cocktail dress following him. She hid beneath his arm as they walked through the rain, the moisture running off of the soft black wool of his suit but making his black hair stick to his face and eye patch.

The remaining girl watched as Dante and her disappeared into the darkness, the girls body language somewhat bitter despite the gratuitous amounts of wine Dante had fueled her with.

I sat back shaking my head in silent laughter. If he was planning what I thought he was planning, he would learn very quickly that that part of his anatomy didn't work anymore.

I stood up, smiling to myself at the irony of it. Quietly, I lifted an umbrella from a man who was eyeballing the remaining sequin clad girl, but I knew she had far too much sense to go home with a drunkard.

I shifted, raising the umbrella over my head, stepping out into the rain and following Dante up the street, always evading their field of vision.  
I kept my senses open for other vampires, fully aware of everyone and every thing I passed. I was Dante's guardian tonight, tonight was about making him stronger.

I shook my head as I trailed them. No, the Count said I had to kill him…

But it was Dante. There was no way I could…

I stopped beneath a glowing green sign as I was struck by a brilliant thought: I would make Dante stronger, and leave him to take care of Anna. I would confront Lillith on my own.  
I smiled to myself, proud of my own genius moment. Anna would be safe with Dante. Mind you, she would most likely try to murder him for being a lecher, but that was nothing new.

Somehow, during my pause, I had lost Dante's scent. I began to panic, running across the street in front of a passing car, causing the driver to veer out of the way and crash into a parking meter.  
I ran into the shadows of an alleyway where I found Dante, the sequined girl leaning back in his arms, her neck stained crimson from where he had torn, but he himself was holding his bleeding wrist over her open lips.

"Dante!" I cried, ripping the girl away from him. "That is the cardinal rule of vampires! Do not make another vampire!"

Dante smiled down at me as the girl stirred in my arms, her visage altered by vampirism to that of ultimate fleshly beauty. Immediately I resented her beauty, her perfection as her vampire eyes looked fearfully up at me.

"I know you hunger, Integra…" Dante said darkly.

"I'm not cleaning up your mess."

"Then let her go, hunt her!" Dante said, raising one bloody fist, an unnaturally wild smile spreading across his pale features. "You like the hunt, so hunt!"

I felt my blood boiling as he spoke, the confused, newborn vampire in my arms crowing continually puzzled. Without thinking, I tore the gash in her neck anew, draining her fully this time. The poor thing didn't even have time to fight back.

I finished, wiping my mouth with a handkerchief. "How dare you damn an innocent like that."

"It's no more cruel…" He said softly, lifting her limp form in his arms. "are we not gods of the night? Are we not here to pass judgment on who is and is not fit to die? How is what I have done any different that what you have done for over a half century?"

"How dare you! I Saved you from Death, I raised you from the coffin, and here you…you mock me! You question my moral judgment!" I clenched my fist so tight I drew blood form my palms. The fresh vampire blood inside me made my veins quicken, my heart race like I was alive again; there was blood pressure again. I was angry.

Dante laughed out loud, genuinely throwing his head back and laughing from deep within his belly. "Morality? What good is morality? Who is judging? God has turned his eyes from us, and even if we were to die as this woman has, what would become of us? What good is morality if we are already bound for Hell?"

"To lessen the blows, the level of Hell for the Futile and the Virtuous Pagans, Dante, this is our Divine Comedy. Being a vampire is Hell, and after this, there is nothing." I fell silent, my own words falling heavily on my ears as my voice echoed above the falling rain, bending through the alleys' and bouncing off the buildings.

"Then you do fear God!" He laughed, tossing the woman's cold body into a pile of rubbish and extending his arms towards me.

"Dante!" I snarled, bristling as he approached. "You will never understand…"

"I understand what Lillith told me, and I understand that you still possess a living heart…you cannot abandon that, can you? "

Without meaning to, I struck him across the face.

He stopped, blinking his good eye, which was brimming with crimson tears.

"I'm sorry…I don't know what came over me…"

I lifted the woman's body in my arms, leaning her gently against the brick wall, positioning her gracefully so her discovery wouldn't be shameful.

"What you said had truth to it, and perhaps that's why I got angry, Dante…" I stopped, standing up and looking at him, the prediction Madame Trelawney made suddenly coming to mind:

"One the King of Hell became…"

I smiled, shaking my head. "Never mind, we were both wrong, and I'm sorry." I took his hand gently. "Come now, let's go."

XxX

* * *

A/n: Sorry it's not a Tuesday update, things are going slow in the writing department.

I was drunk. Again. I need to put my foot down on the 'party's' we've been having.


	20. The Gauntlet

XxX

I said goodnight to Dante shortly after three in the morning, locking him back up within his coffin with perhaps more thoroughness than I had intended.

Despite telling him so multiple times, I hadn't quite forgiven him for his behavior with the young lady. It had scared me, me, who had seen so many things in the course of my career, things that no living person could even begin to fathom, the worst terrors of humanity and the undead unleashed.

It wasn't merely the fact that he was so ruthless and uncaring; that did bother me, however, the most terrifying thing was it was Dante. Dante was gentle and sweet, loving, and possibly a bit stupid at times, but he, or at least I thought, could never cause such careless and thorough harm to a living being.

Maybe I hadn't seem all of his sides; he had to be tough to a degree due to his upbringing and former profession as the Italian Minister of Magic's personal aid, but…it was Dante.

I sighed, shutting off the light in the refrigeration unit and closing the door behind me. My spirit was dampened to say the least. I found myself wishing he'd have died instead, that I would have spared him from this darkness that he was plagued with and that this side of him had never been exposed to me.

I would rather mourn the death of a good man than rejoice in the unlife of a monster.

I felt my stomach twist. We weren't monsters. What was I thinking?

Of course we were monsters, we were the very things that mortals feared, we were the things that hunted them, that preyed upon the living. In a world of black and white, Dante was right; what I had now done for over 50 years was no different than what he had just done tonight.

But I hadn't created a vampire until I created him.

It had been dangerous and stupid for him to do what he'd done; what if he had created a ghoul out of her? He would have been drained of energy, and there would have been a zombie on the loose, and I doubted even I had the energy to defeat a zombie, considering what I had gone through so far; I was low on energy myself.  
But he did it for me, because Vampire blood was the best source of sustenance for me.

I looked down at my hands, shining moon-pale in the florescent lights of the kitchen of the muggle hotel.

Not since The Count had anyone taken care of me so, had anyone held my best interest at heart. Dante behaved as such because he cared for me, like a sister, like a lover, and like a friend.

I was complicating things again; the world Dante had presented me with tonight was black and white. I had to think in black and white to understand him.  
I shook my head, fighting to conflict in my mind, logic and philosophy fighting violently with instinct and justification, my own proud English morals going against the very grain of what the world had made me.

Was this world really Hell? Was there any hope for us? Any salvation? Could it get worse?

I climbed the stairs, crossing the ostentatious lobby towards the revolving oak doors, my umbrella clenched firmly in my hands. I wanted to talk to someone, anyone who would listen to me, anyone who could give me advice on my situation. Dumbledore, Anna, the Count, anyone…anyone at all!

I paused beneath the large awning that covered the marble steps, feeling overwhelmed and close to tears. A man in a dark pea coat passed by, casting me a furtive glance before continuing on in the darkness, his rain soaked umbrella clenched firmly in his gloved hand.

I opened my umbrella, descending the steps and letting myself get lost in the mist.

When I was alive, I loved the rain. I loved the sound, the feel, the dropping temperature; it always felt like the world was getting cleansed from everything that was wrong with it. I felt like I would wake up the next morning, and the War would be over, and mother would be back, that all would be right with the world when the morning broke, fresh and clean.

Of course, to me back then it also meant that the fires started by the blitzkriegs would be put out. But even though the Nazi's were gone, and the fires were out, there was still a war over London, and the world still needed to be cleansed.

I had learned long ago that rain it's self could do nothing to help this.

I made my way across the city in silence, stopping by the pond near the tennis court in the park that bordered Highgate, a charmingly quiet little stretch of nature called 'Waterlow Park'. I watched the rain patter the water, making endless ripples across the black glass surface. The trees around me were full of water, their upturned leaves trembling from the heavy water droplets.

Though I was in the middle of the city, I always felt peace in that park. I sighed, sitting back against the bench and looking past the dome of the yellow polka dot fabric over my head. The clouds were moving endlessly overhead, rolling over the city like a great beast about to devour us.

It didn't look normal for London rain; normally, clouds were high and sort of filmy, but this was violent and wild beneath the surface of the clouds.

I stood up suddenly. Dracula, or The Count, had the power to control weather to a small degree. He was indeed a powerful vampire, and while even I could control little bits of it, it was not uncommon for the Count to make it rain over London when he visited with me. I made it snow once in the late September when Anna had complained about going outside for class. A storm like this could have been caused by a powerful vampire, which meant that Lillith could be in London.

I folded the umbrella, taking a deep breath and setting it on the bench. St. Mary-le-bow wasn't far, and Anna said she could hear the church bells form her home. I could hear the bells, too, right now, even.

Had I only lived but a few minutes away from her all this time? For her entire life, when I could have been there to protect her? What had I been missing out on all these years?

Dante was in the protection of the Illuminati for the night, but Anna was defenseless. If Lillith was indeed here…

I took off at a dead run, my shoes pounding the pavement as I felt a lump rise in my throat. I hadn't paid attention to my location until now, because it hadn't mattered.  
I passed the grim-looking 17 century statue of an austere yet childlike woman, drawing near to the high, brick wall that flanked one of the entrances to the famous park.  
The rain soaked through my pants and jacket as I ran down the street, dodging cars and narrowly missing stoplights. I was quite certain I was traveling fast enough no mortal could even begin to detect me, but still it wasn't fast enough.

It seemed like forever before I found myself on Beaumont street, staring up at a vast wall of newer brick buildings, Anna's street address engraved into my mind like the carved face of the old statue.

I felt a prickle of excitement run through me; lights were on at her address, in a room on to top floor. It had to be her.

I leapt onto the painted white railing, peering inside the room. Anna was sitting on her bed, tissues placed carefully between her toes as he applied lacquer to her toenails with one hand and turned the pages of a novel with the other.

I hesitated, clinging to the side of the building like a rain soaked moth, peering wantonly into the windows. Sure, I could rap sharply on the glass, get her attention, possibly spoil her pedicure and make her lose her place, and at best, it would be a fun sport; she would get mad, but not mad enough to leave. I had done something like that a million times at Hogwarts.

But something was different, something had changed, like the red rinse Anna had put on her hair to alter her appearance, like the hardness at the corner of her green eyes, the unhealthy frailness that had taken over her visage, making her look to me like a rare flower that would crumble if exposed.

Butt here was comfort; in her room there, dirty socks and crumpled notes left laying on the floor in a sort of organized chaos, there was no sign she planned on leaving for Romania. Which meant that Dante and I needn't concern her further with our troubles.

She thought I was dead, and in her mind, I was. But I couldn't just leave her…not tonight, not with Lillith possibly skulking about.

I scaled the wall, my fingertips finding easy holds in the bricks; a trick the count had taught me.

Gravity and physics and such nonsense meant very little to vampires, and even less to wizards.

I settled down on the edge of the rooftop, the rain beating down on my skin, forming little silver droplets in the white flesh. I gathered it in my hands, letting it run down my fingers and drop onto the pavement far below all the while keeping my eyes and ears open for any sign of another vampire. I knew I needed to rest tonight, but Anna was more important. This could be the last time I saw her.

XxX

I must have fallen asleep sitting up on the ledge, because I found myself trapped in the midst of a demented dream; I was both awake and asleep, sitting alone in the ledge, the bells of St. Mary-Le-Bow running in my head, along with this inexplicable white noise.

"Get out." I muttered, my own voice seeming alien against the backdrop of my mind.

_"Do you not want me here, my love?"_

I shook my head, grasping my face as I stood, gravity placing bets on which side of the rooftop ledge on which I'd fall: the entire world seemed to be standing still in silent, maddening mockery of me.

"I…realized…" I began, my mind going numb, unable to formulate thoughts as the count slowly took over. I was fighting against him, as hard as I could. I could hear his thoughts as well; he thought I was weak, he thought I couldn't handle myself in the days that would come, he thought I needed to be stranger.

"STOP MOCKING ME!" I screamed, stumbling back onto the roof, clutching at my soaking wet face, the rain still smothering he world around me. "I can handle myself! I'm strong. I can do it! Have faith in me mas-" I froze mid sentence. No. He wasn't my master anymore, and as it was, I stood the risk of sounding like the zoophagous maniac Renfield.

More weakness, he didn't think I could handle myself, especially now when thoughts of Renfield crossed my mind. He was chastising me for doubting myself now! The outrage!

_"Let me, just for tonight if nothing else…"_

No, it was always like that, he was always telling me that 'just for tonight'…

_"Why tonight of all nights?"_

_"You will see. She is here."_

I stopped: I smelled another vampire on the rooftop behind me, my blood running cold. Why here? Why now…?

I turned slowly, my hand dropping to my side, inches away from the gun beneath my jacket, but I stopped. Anna stood before me, her mint green pajama's soaked through with the rain, her head hung slightly, reddish-brown waves falling past her shoulders.

"Anna…?" I called, my voice struggling to find itself in the rain.

Her head rose and she looked at me, but her face was changed; it wasn't the anna I knew…

_"Lillith's taken over her in her sleep."_ The Count's voice whispered in my head.

_"What?"_

_"There is a reason why Lillith is called 'The Queen of Dreams'."_ I felt a weight on my shoulder, pressing into my back. The Count was here, physically…it didn't seem possible…but…here he was!

"So you finally have the nerve to show your face, Count Dracula…" Through the oncoming rain, I could make out Lilith's form over Anna's shoulder. "Are you going to run again, Count?"

I felt so much hatred for Lillith I could barely contain myself: but I was also afraid, afraid that she would do to Anna what she did to Dante. The Count's grip on my shoulder tightened; he knew my thoughts, he knew my fears, and in my head, he was speaking to me again:

_"Don't be afraid."_

I think I might have scoffed inwardly, but Lillith's face was that of utter amusement, and this time she spoke to me in that bating tone.

"Do you enjoy what I did to Dante? Oh, he's going to be a violent one, that one…"

I narrowed my eyes. "No, he's not."

"My sweet little girl, you really don't know him, now do you? Unlike you, I was able to see inside his heart and mind when I turned him…"

"No! That was me! I turned him! You killed him, you…sow!"

"You really are a fool, little one!" Lillith laughed. "You really do have delusions of your own power. It can't be helped though, the vampire that sired you being who he is. The train crash, I am the one who opened his coffin, I am the one who gave him unlife…"

"I tried to stop her that day, but people were going to die if I didn't let her win this battle…" The Count said quietly. "I tried to keep everyone safe from her, but the Wars, the killing…Is my so-called 'kingdom' worth it, Lillith? Even now?"

"Your kingdom doesn't matter to me anymore. You made a promise, and you fled when the time came to deliver, you fled into the arms of that Illuminati vampire hunter, Van Hellsing, thinking that he would save you…"

"No. I fled to Madam Mina. The truth is, for some reason, you couldn't go near her…"

"I can now." Lillith whispered, her full, voluptuous lips forming the words slowly as she shook Anna's shoulders, making the teen's head loll from side to side. My stomach twisted; humans have such fragile spines…what if it snapped? Lillith seemed to guess my thoughts and smiled, stopping and tilting Anna's head upwards, leaving light bruises on the girls chin and pressing their cheekbones together with a smile. "This lovely girl right here is the descendant of the Harkers!"

I felt a sudden realization his me as the Count's grip tightened painfully on my shoulder, the pain of his fingernails lost to the fabric of his white gloves and the many layers of my jacket. Now the Count was concerned, and I could feel and outpouring of love coming from him. Love for Anna, as one might love a child they have stove so hard to protect.

I was shocked: Anna…was a descendant of the Harkers? What kind of divine joke was this!

I took a deep breath; I had to wake her up, I had to wake us both up. The Count nodded to me, as if he approved of my plan.

Without any further though of consequence, I lunged at Anna, grabbing hr away form Lillith. All at once, the fog vanished from my mind and I was laying there, in the rain, Anna stirring in my arms.

" Anna..." I immediately took off my jacket, putting it around her shoulders. She gave me a puzzled, almost angry look before her face eased into one of relief.

"So you ARE alive…" Anna whispered, wrapping her warm arms around my neck in a sort of half-asleep embrace. "I'd been having dreams about it ever since you left…"

A sudden thought of the Count entered my head and I smiled inwardly; he'd been coming to her in dreams. "Anna, let's go inside, I think we have some talking to do."

* * *

A/n: Hooo boy, I have a new job that's been taking a lot out of me, so I haven't had the time to write. I really hope you'll forgive me!

Please review! It means so much to me!


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